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THE MAKERS OF CANADA

COUNT
FRONTENAC

WILLIAM D. LE SUEUR

TORONTO

MORANG & CO., LIMITED

1909

PREFACE

The author of the following work desires to acknowledge his obligations to two preceding writers who have dealt with the life and times of Count Frontenac, the late Mr. Parkman, and M. Henri Lorin. The merits of the former are too well known and too thoroughly established to need any commendation at this time. If he charms by the lucidity and picturesqueness of his style, none the less does he achieve a high level of historical accuracy, and manifest the control of the true spirit of historical criticism. The work of M. Lorin is, perhaps, less attractive in point of style, but it treats the whole subject from an independent point of view, and in a very comprehensive manner. It is a treasure-house of carefully sifted facts in relation to the career of Canada's most famous governor under the old régime. A certain French writer once complimented another—a dim recollection suggests that it was Buffon who so complimented President Debrosses in regard to his work on language—by saying that whoever treated the same subject "après lui" would also have to do it "d'après lui"; and such the author inclines to think has, to some extent, been his situation in relation to his two able and industrious predecessors. At the same time the present work has not been written without consultation of original sources, and it is trusted that it will be found—for Canadian readers especially—a not unserviceable or uninteresting narrative.

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER I

CANADA BEFORE FRONTENAC

1608 TO 1632

When Count Frontenac landed at Quebec, in the month of September 1672, to administer the government of Canada or, as it was then more generally called, New France, the country had been for a period of a little over sixty years under continuous French rule. The period may, indeed, be limited to exactly sixty years if we take as the starting-point the commission issued to Samuel de Champlain on the 15th of October 1612 as "Commander in New France," under the authority of the Count de Soissons, who had been appointed by the queen regent, Marie de Medicis, as lieutenant-general of that territory. What had been accomplished during those sixty odd years? How had the country developed, and what were the elements of the situation which confronted Frontenac on his arrival? Answers to these questions may be gathered, it is hoped, from the following brief introductory narrative.

The territorial claims of France in the gulf and valley of the St. Lawrence were founded on the discoveries made in the name of the French king, Francis I, by that brave Breton mariner, Jacques Cartier, in the celebrated voyages undertaken by him in the years 1534 and 1535. An attempt at[2] colonization made in the latter year, the site chosen being the left bank of the St. Charles near Quebec, failed miserably; nor were the similar attempts made in 1541 by Cartier and in 1542 by Roberval any more successful. Cartier did not again return to Canada, and all efforts in the direction of colonization were suspended for sixty years, though French fishermen continued to visit the Gulf of St. Lawrence. In the year 1603 a notable figure appears upon the scene, Samuel Champlain, the true founder of French power on the continent of America. A few years previously a certain naval captain named Chauvin, who enjoyed considerable influence at court, had applied for and obtained from King Henry IV a patent granting him exclusive trading privileges in the St. Lawrence. This he had done at the instance of one Pontgravé, a leading merchant of St. Malo, well acquainted with the St Lawrence trade, whose business instinct had led him to see that the fur trade alone of that region might be a source of vast wealth to any single company controlling it. One condition of the grant was that not less than five hundred persons should be settled in the country, and another that provision should be made for the religious instruction both of the settlers and of the natives. Having obtained the patent, neither Chauvin nor Pontgravé, whom he appointed as his lieutenant, seems to have thought of anything but the conversion of their privilege into money. They sailed to the St. Lawrence,[3] but proceeded no further than Tadousac, where they set up a trading establishment. At the end of the first summer season they returned to France, leaving some sixteen men behind them so ill provided for that eleven died during the winter of disease and hardship. The rest would have died of starvation had not friendly Indians supplied them with food. Chauvin made two more trips to the St. Lawrence without doing anything to redeem his engagements, and in the year 1601 he died.

The death of Chauvin having voided his patent, the king was moved to constitute Knight Commander de Chastes, Governor of Dieppe, his representative in the western world. A company was formed, and an expedition was organized and placed under the command of Pontgravé, as a man having special knowledge of the St. Lawrence navigation. By request of de Chastes, Champlain was associated with him. At this time Champlain was thirty-six years of age, and had already distinguished himself as soldier, sailor, explorer, and geographer. His chief work in the two latter characters had been done in connection with a voyage which he had made to the West Indies and Mexico in one of the vessels of the King of Spain. On his return he described the places he had visited in a work, still extant, illustrated by curious maps and pictures of his own drawing. Champlain had higher views than mere money making and no more valuable man could have been assigned to the expedition. Setti[4]ng sail with Pontgravé from Honfleur on the 15th March 1603, he arrived at Tadousac on the 24th May. How earnestly he was bent on carrying the Catholic faith into the wilds of Canada is shown by a conversation he reports having had with an Algonquin chief, into whose mind he was trying to instil correct views as to the origin of things, and particularly of the human race. The Algonquin had been under the impression that the Creator had placed arrows in the ground, and then turned them into men. Champlain assured him that this was an error, man having been made in the first place out of clay, and woman from a rib taken from his side while he slept. He dwelt somewhat also on the propriety and duty of the invocation of saints, with a view, as the Abbé Faillon hints,[1] to counteracting any prejudice against that doctrine which Chauvin and his companions, who were Calvinists, might have endeavoured to create in the savage mind. Judging, however, by the Algonquin's replies to Champlain's catechising, his mental attitude was one of admirable neutrality, securely founded on nescience, regarding any or all of the doctrines in debate between Rome and Geneva. Chauvin had attended strictly to business.

Before returning to France, Champlain explored the river St. Lawrence as far as the Lachine Rapids. On the way up he anchored before Quebec, the situation of which he describes; doubtless he recognized it as the place near which Jacques[5] Cartier and his men had spent their terrible winter. In passing Three Rivers he noticed how advantageously it was situated both for trade and for defence. He explored the country in the vicinity of the Lachine Rapids sufficiently to recognize that the land to his right, as he ascended, was an island (Montreal). Of the rapids themselves he says that never had he seen a torrent rushing with such impetuosity. Returning to Tadousac he proceeded down the river to Gaspé and Percé and entered the Baie des Chaleurs. After making, according to his custom, as many observations and inquiries as possible in regard to the character and outlines of the country, he returned to Tadousac, and, gathering his party, which had meanwhile been doing some profitable trading with the natives, set sail for France, where he arrived on the 20th September. M. de Chastes, under whose authority he and Pontgravé were acting, had died in the month of May. Champlain, therefore, went alone to court, exhibited to the king a map he had made of the country, and gave such information as to its resources and capabilities as he had personally gathered. The king was much interested; and, desiring that the work so well begun should be vigorously prosecuted, he issued a patent to a Huguenot gentleman, Pierre Dugas, Sieur de Monts and Governor of Pons conferring upon him exclusive trading privileges for a period of ten years not only in Canada, but in Acadia. The essential condition of this grant, it has been said, was the[6] establishment in the countries mentioned of the "Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman faith"; but, if such was the case, the terms of the document seem a little lacking in precision, as they speak only of instructing the natives in the principles of Christianity and the knowledge of God, and thus bringing them to the light of faith and the practice of the Christian religion. As de Monts was a Huguenot the generality of these terms may not have been without significance.

De Monts had been in Canada before, having accompanied Chauvin on one or two of his voyages to Tadousac. He had also some knowledge of Acadia, and had conceived a preference for that region, as being more favourably situated and milder in climate than Canada so far as he knew it. To that quarter, therefore, he directed the expedition, which left Havre under his command in March 1604. The result was complete failure owing to causes into which it is impossible in this hasty narrative to enter. Suffice it to say that, opposition having been raised to the privileges enjoyed by de Monts, the king, who was an accomplished politician—it was he who had thought Paris "well worth a mass"—cancelled his patent, and thus destroyed all the expectations which he and his business associates, who had incurred great expense in equipping the expedition, had founded thereon. Some progress had been made in settlement at Port Royal, and excellent relations had been established with the natives, when in the fall [7]of 1607 the whole colony was recalled to France. Champlain, who had accompanied this expedition, turned it to good account in increasing his stores of geographical knowledge. In the following year, 1608, de Monts succeeded in obtaining a renewal of his patent for one year. After consultation with Champlain he decided that Quebec would be the best place at which to attempt a settlement. He accordingly equipped two vessels for the enterprise, and placed them under the command of Champlain, whom he appointed as his lieutenant with full powers of control over the whole expedition. He himself remained behind in Paris to watch over his interests, which were subject at every moment to attack. His lieutenant sailed from Honfleur on the 13th April 1608, and arrived at Tadousac on the 3rd of June, and at Quebec on the 3rd of July. Having disembarked his men, Champlain set them to work at once to clear the level piece of land at the base of the rock, erect a storehouse and dwellings, and surround the whole with a palisade and ditch. Thus in the summer of 1608 was the city of Quebec founded, and the power of France formally established on the North American continent.

The first event of note in the annals of the new colony was certainly not an auspicious one: a plot that was formed by some of the men of the expedition against the life of their commander. Had the designs of the conspirators not been brought to light in time, the course of Canadian history, [8]as we know it, might have been seriously turned aside. Four men were found guilty, and sentenced to death; the ringleader only, a Norman named Jean Duval, was executed, the others were sent to France where their sentences were commuted. Lescarbot, a contemporary writer, to whom we are indebted for much information respecting the events of the period, states that the men were dissatisfied with their food; but from Champlain's own narrative it appears that the plot was formed, if not before the expedition left France, at least before it reached Quebec, and that the whole motive of the conspirators was gain, their intention being to deliver over all Champlain's goods to the Basques and Spaniards fishing and trading at Tadousac, and to escape on their vessels with the proceeds of their treason. This danger, however, having been happily averted, work was proceeded with on what Champlain in his narrative calls the "habitation," and by the time winter set in the dwellings were in readiness. The winter was destined to be a most unhappy one. As before, when Cartier took up his quarters on the banks of the St. Charles in the winter of 1535-6, scurvy broke out, and twenty men out of a company of twenty-eight died.

In the spring of 1609 a reinforcement for the shrunken colony was brought out by Pontgravé. It was in the summer of that year that Champlain, with little thought of the consequences his action would entail, carried out a promise previously[9] made to the Algonquins and Hurons to assist them in their feud with the Iroquois. Taking eleven Frenchmen with him in a ship's boat, and accompanied by about three hundred savages in their canoes, he proceeded as far as the mouth of the Richelieu River. There most of the savages changed their minds, and deserted the party. Finding that the boat was not suited to the navigation of the Richelieu River up which the route to the enemy's country lay, Champlain sent it back to Quebec and nine men with it. He with two Frenchmen and sixty Indians proceeded in canoes, and on the 30th of July a band of Iroquois on the war-path was encountered on the shore of what has since been known as Lake Champlain. The story is briefly told. Champlain, who had loaded his arquebus with four balls, brought down at the first shot three Iroquois chiefs, two instantly killed, and the third mortally wounded. His men did further execution. The Iroquois, astounded at such swift death, turned and fled. In the pursuit others were killed. Commenting on this campaign, and a somewhat similar one of the year following, the Abbé Faillon observes that if Champlain, instead of siding with the Algonquins and Hurons against the Iroquois, had declared himself the friend of all the tribes, he would not only have done more honour to the French name, but would have gained access for himself and for the missionaries who were to follow him to all the Indian communities. By the course he actually followed he inspired[10] the most powerful and best organized of the Indian tribes with a hatred for the French race and for the religion they professed, which during a long series of years wreaked itself in countless deeds of blood, and more than once brought the colony of New France to the verge of extinction. The massacre of Lachine (1689) was a late harvest of the blood sown on the shores of Lake Champlain eighty years before.

The vessels which brought out recruits brought also the news that the exclusive privilege of trade granted to de Monts had been cancelled, or at least had not been renewed, though de Monts still retained his position as the king's lieutenant in New France. Champlain was therefore obliged to return to France in the autumn and discuss matters. Leaving Quebec on the 5th September he reached Honfleur on the 14th October. He saw the king, reported progress, and showed him some of the products of the country. De Monts renewed his efforts to be reinstated in his privileges, but without success. In the end it was arranged that Champlain should return to Canada, which he did, leaving Honfleur on the 8th April 1610, and arriving at Quebec early in May. We pass over the second attack on the Iroquois, made in the month of June of this year, in which Champlain was slightly wounded. It is interesting, however, to learn that, on returning from his campaign, he found a piece of land near his "habitation" at Quebec, which he had brought under cultivation[11], yielding good crops of vegetables, Indian corn, wheat, rye, and barley. He had been much annoyed on reaching Quebec in the spring to find that no care had been taken of some grape vines that he had carefully laid down the previous fall. This was but one example of an indolent neglect only too characteristic, unhappily, of the Quebec colonists in after years.

Towards the end of this summer grave news arrived. The king, Henry IV, had fallen under the dagger of an assassin. Champlain and Pontgravé both thought it desirable to return to France without delay, as it was impossible to say how their interests might be affected by the change of government. The only incident of importance, so far as is known, which happened during Champlain's stay in France on this occasion, was his marriage to a Protestant young lady named Helen Boullé, whom, on account of her tender years—she was only twelve years old—he left to grow up under her father's roof, but who brought him as her dowry a much needed subsidy of six thousand francs. Thus financially reinforced he sailed again for Canada in the spring of 1611. He had an appointment to keep, made the previous year, with certain Indians to meet them at the Grand Saut (Lachine Rapids) to discuss matters of trade and war. He arrived there on the 28th May, a few days later than he had said, but found no Indians. Not being a man to waste time he employed himself while waiting in prospecting the Island of Mo[12]ntreal and erecting a wall, as the commencement of a fort, almost on the very spot selected thirty-one years afterwards by Maisonneuve for the same purpose. It has been conjectured that, if Champlain had known all the advantages possessed by Montreal, as compared with Quebec, before he began to construct buildings at the latter place, Montreal would probably have been the first capital of New France. This, however, seems hardly probable. It was important that the capital should be a place naturally strong in a military point of view—"naturâ fortis," as the motto of the city of Quebec has it—and of comparatively easy access from the sea; and these obvious advantages Quebec possessed in a much higher degree than Montreal.

De Monts was at last convinced that, under existing conditions, there was no money in the enterprise to which he was committed. Others could engage in the fur trade as freely as he, without having any establishments in Canada to keep up; so he willingly resigned his empty honours as lieutenant-general, in order to see what he could do as a private trader, or private member of a trading company. The office of lieutenant-general passed into the hands of a more powerful person, the Duke of Condé, who wisely made Champlain his lieutenant, and under whose auspices a powerful company was formed, consisting of all the traders of Rouen and St. Malo who wished to join it. The merchants of La Rochelle had also been invited to take a share in the en[13]terprise, but they held off, and were consequently left out of the arrangement. Champlain had returned to France in September 1611, and the difficulties and oppositions of one kind and another to which the organization of the new company gave rise kept him there till the spring of 1613, when, again setting sail for Canada, he arrived at Quebec about the 1st of May. It was in the early summer of this year that he made his celebrated trip up the Ottawa River as far as Allumette Island, about one hundred miles above the city of Ottawa, after which he again returned to France.

Up to this time nothing had been done by the various trading companies that had been formed towards the evangelization of the native tribes, nor even for meeting the spiritual necessities of the Europeans settled or trading in New France. Champlain, who remained in France during the whole of the following year (1614), thought it time to take the matter in hand. He therefore arranged with the Provincial of the Récollet Fathers, a sub-order of the Franciscans, that six of their members should go out to New France as missionaries, their maintenance and lodging to be provided by the company. Four of the fathers sailed with him from France in the ship St. Étienne of three hundred and fifty tons, on the 24th April 1615, and arrived at Quebec about the 1st of June. They were received with many tokens of satisfaction, but the good fathers were not long in discovering that there was very little zeal for religion in the colony, and th[14]at their work was going to be beset with the most serious difficulties and discouragements. A Récollet writer, Théodat Sagard, who came to Canada a year or two later, and who wrote a most interesting record of his experiences, says that the French themselves, who were supposed to be Christians, were by their scandalous lives the greatest impediment to the conversion of the Indians. We gather from Champlain's narrative that the first celebration of the mass took place at Rivière des Prairies, a few miles below Montreal, before a few French and a large number of Indians, "who were full of admiration at the ceremonies practised, and the ornaments used, the latter in particular seeming to them, unaccustomed as they were to such things, very beautiful and interesting."

Champlain himself was present on this solemn occasion, and it is a cause of regret to know that he was at the moment under a promise to join the Huron Indians in another attack on the Iroquois. It was in connection with this expedition that some of his most interesting geographical discoveries were made. The point of rendezvous for the warriors was a Huron village to the west of Lake Simcoe called Cahiagué. To reach it Champlain's Indian guides took the route by the Ottawa River to Lake Nipissing, thence by the French River into the Georgian Bay, and down through the clustering islands on its eastern coast to some point not far from Penetanguishene. Beyond Allumette Island on the Ottawa all was new[15] to Champlain. He now saw for the first time Lake Simcoe, Sturgeon Lake, Rice Lake, and finally Lake Ontario. He describes the country he passed through as most beautiful. The expedition, however, was fated to be unsuccessful, and came very near to proving most disastrous. The attack made on a fortified position of the enemy was repelled; Champlain himself received two painful arrow wounds; and if the Iroquois had only sent a party to capture and destroy the canoes of the Hurons, the whole invading force might easily have been annihilated. It was about the middle of October that the fight took place. Champlain, as soon as his wounds were healed, was anxious to be conducted back to the Grand Saut, whence he might make his way to Quebec; but his allies pleaded the impossibility of sparing men and canoes for the purpose, and he was consequently obliged to spend the winter with them. Not unnaturally the French at Quebec had almost given him up for lost, when he made his appearance among them some time in the month of June 1616.

Little of interest occurred in the colony, if we may call it by that name, for several years after this. In 1620 Champlain began the construction of the Château St. Louis on a portion of the ground now covered by Dufferin Terrace; yet at this date the whole population of Quebec did not exceed fifty persons. Amongst these there was only one who could be called a settler in the true sense of the word. This was Louis Hébert who[16] had come to Canada in 1617 under a contract with the company, the terms of which do not give us a favourable opinion of the liberality of that corporation or of their desire to open up the country. Hébert, who was a chemist and apothecary by profession, was bound to serve the company for three years for a hundred crowns a year, his wife and children being also liable to be called upon for any help they could render. He received an allotment of land; but he could only work on it at such times as his services were not required by the company. At the end of three years he might grow crops, but he must sell his produce to the company at such prices as were current in France. Notwithstanding these restrictions, Hébert managed in the course of time to establish himself in comfort, and to become a substantial bourgeois of the new colony.

The Récollet fathers had now been five years in the country, yet the interests of religion were not flourishing. They found that they were not receiving the assistance from the company that had been promised; and, not only so, but that their influence with the natives was constantly being undermined by the company's agents and servants, whose one preoccupation was trade. In their perplexity and discouragement—for they were really making no headway at all—it occurred to them that, if they could have the assistance of a few Jesuit fathers, the situation might be materially improved, their impression being that the Jesuits, if they came,[17] would probably have some independent means of their own, and moreover that the high credit they enjoyed in France would stand them in good stead in the colony. They consequently sent home one of their number to conduct negotiations to that end. The result was that, in the month of June 1625, three Jesuit fathers and two coadjutors came out to Quebec, to begin that career of evangelization and of dauntless, self-sacrificing effort which has won for their order an imperishable name in the annals of French colonization in North America.

What may be called the first chapter in the history of New France was now drawing to a close. In 1621 the Duke of Condé had, with the royal approval, transferred the lieutenant-generalship to the Duke of Montmorency for a consideration of eleven thousand francs. Some changes were at the same time made in the organization of the trading company. In 1625 Montmorency in turn passed over the office to his nephew, Henri de Lévis, Duke of Ventadour. These changes in no way improved the situation of the settlement at Quebec which, under all managements, was consistently starved and kept down to the level of a precarious trading-post. The French during these years were more and more losing influence with their Indian allies, the Hurons and Montagnais, whose attitude at times became very menacing, and who actually committed several murders for which it was impossible to bring them to punishment. The chief reason for the change of temper on the[18] part of the natives was that they found they were being systematically cheated by the French traders, who beat them down to the lowest price for their furs, and charged them the highest price for commodities sold. A Récollet writer tells a story of an Indian chief which places the character of the red man in a much more favourable light than that of the civilized Europeans with whom he was dealing. The chief, at the request of some of his people, was begging one of the agents of the company to treat them with a little more fairness and humanity. The agent, after considerable discussion, offered the chief to do business with him personally on more liberal terms, but said he could not make any change as regards the other Indians. "You are insulting me then," said the chief, "for if I were to consent to such an arrangement I should deserve to be hanged by my own people. I am their captain; it is for them I am speaking, not for myself."

Things had reached such a pass that Champlain thought it necessary to speak very plainly to the home authorities. Cardinal Richelieu, who was at this time at the head of affairs in France, and specially in charge of the maritime interests of the kingdom, determined on what he hoped would be a radical measure of reform, namely the formation of a company on a much wider basis than any preceding one, and consisting of persons of higher mark and responsibility, who should hold their powers directly from himself. The edict establishing the company, the legal name of which was[19] the Company of New France, but which was afterwards more commonly known as the Company of the Hundred Associates, bore date the 29th April 1627. The preamble set forth in forcible terms the lamentable failure of all the previous trading associations to redeem their pledges in the matter of colonization; and the new associates were, by the terms of their charter, bound in the most formal and positive manner, to convey annually to the colony, beginning in the following year, 1628, from two to three hundred bona fide settlers, and in the fifteen following years to transport thither a total of not less than four thousand persons male and female. The settlers were to be maintained for three years, until they could get their land under cultivation, and then for one season till they had reaped their crops. Provision was also to be made for the maintenance of a sufficient number of clergy to meet the spiritual wants both of the settlers and of the native population. In consideration of these services all French possessions between Florida and the Arctic Circle, and from Newfoundland as far west as the company should be able to possess the land, were handed over to them in absolute sovereignty, saving only the supreme authority of the French king. They had, of course, a complete monopoly of trade, with the sole exception of the cod and whale fisheries which, as before, were to be open to all French subjects.[20]

A most unexpected event, however, was destined to delay for some years the carrying out of the plans of the great cardinal. In the very year in which the new company was formed war broke out between France and England. The general result of the war was both disastrous and inglorious for England; but a notable incident of it was the capture of Quebec by a small fleet of privateers under the command of Captain David Kirke, sailing under letters of marque from the English king, Charles I, authorizing him to attack the French in Canada, and drive them out of the country if possible. Kirke's first exploit was to defeat and capture, early in 1628, not far from Gaspé, a French fleet of eighteen vessels carrying a considerable number of colonists, and also a large quantity of provisions, goods of all kinds, and munitions of war for the colony of New France. To what dire extremities the loss of these supplies reduced the already feeble settlement is movingly described in Champlain's own narrative. Kirke, after his victory, stripped the vessels of the enemy of whatever they contained that was valuable, burnt the smaller ones, and took the larger ones to Newfoundland. Then, after destroying the French settlements in Acadia, he sailed for England with his prisoners and a portion of the booty. This gave the colony at Quebec a year's respite from attack; but owing to a series of misfortunes no succour was received from France during the interval. The consequence was that, when Kirke returned in the following year to the St. Lawr[21]ence, and sent two of his brothers, Louis and Thomas, with three small but well-appointed vessels—he himself remaining at Tadousac—to demand the surrender of Quebec, the only course open to Champlain, who not only had no adequate means of defence, but whose little garrison was on the point of starvation, was to make an honourable capitulation. It was agreed that the French should evacuate the place carrying with them their arms, clothing, and any furs they might individually own, and should be allowed to return to France in a vessel of their own providing. As they had difficulty in procuring a suitable vessel, Kirke in the end furnished one of two hundred and fifty tons, manned by seventy of his own sailors, and landed them, to the number of over a hundred, in England. The preliminary articles of capitulation were signed on the 19th July 1629, and two days later the English flag was raised on the Château St. Louis, to the accompaniment of salvos of artillery, fired both from the ships in the river and the land batteries, of which the English had now taken possession.

While all this was going on the Kirke brothers and Champlain were alike unaware that, three months previously, peace had been signed between England and France. The disappointment and chagrin of David Kirke when he landed the Quebec garrison in England, and learned that the capture had been made in time of peace and would probably have to be restored, may be imagined.[22] Champlain made it his business to go at once and see the French ambassador in London, in order to report what had taken place and urge the restitution of the colony to France. The matter was taken up by the French government, and Charles promised to restore Canada, but made no engagement respecting Acadia. The French king, Louis XIII, about this time had his hands full with domestic sedition and foreign war. His own brother, Gaston de France, with the sympathy both of the queen and of the queen mother, was in revolt against him, as well as the Duke of Montmorency, former lieutenant-general of Canada. The rebellion was crushed through the vigorous action of Cardinal Richelieu, and Montmorency was brought to the block; but meantime the negotiations with England had remained in suspense. Finally they were brought to a conclusion in 1632, Charles agreeing to restore both Canada and Acadia. The probability is that had he refused to do so the matter would not have been pressed—at least not to the point of war—and that Canada and Acadia would have remained English possessions. Never, in the course of history, did a country more distinctly stand at the parting of the ways; and it is singular to reflect that, in all probability, it is owing to the restitution of Canada to France at that time that the Dominion of Canada is to-day a British possession.

CHAPTER II

CANADA BEFORE FRONTENAC

1632 TO 1672

Canada had fallen into the hands of the English before the new company organized by Cardinal Richelieu was able to enter on the rights and privileges secured to it by the edict of incorporation, or even so much as to set foot in the country. Whatever there might be at Quebec in the way of buildings, fortifications, etc., was the property of the preceding company, of which one William de Caën was the head. It seemed advisable, therefore, to Cardinal Richelieu to send William de Caën, or some one deputed by him, out to Quebec to accept transfer of the country on behalf of the French king from Louis Kirke, who had remained in command there. De Caën named his brother Emery for this duty, and the latter, provided with all necessary papers and instructions, set sail from France towards the end of April 1632, and arrived at Quebec on the 5th of July. An order from King Charles of England, of which he was bearer, required Kirke to evacuate the place within eight days. The order was complied with, and the French resumed possession of Quebec three years, all but a month, after yielding it up to the English. Mention has been made of the one genuine settler or habit[24]ant at Quebec, Louis Hébert. He had died some time before the capitulation; but his widow and her son-in-law, who had between them some seven acres of land under good cultivation, had remained in the country during the whole period of the English occupation. The Jesuit Relations tell of the joy of the widow at welcoming her own countrymen again, and particularly of the delight she manifested when her house was used as a chapel for the first celebration of mass after the French re-occupation. In the spring of the following year Champlain, who had been recommended by the new company as governor, and had received his appointment as such at the hands of the cardinal, set sail for Canada with three vessels, carrying in all about two hundred persons, more than half being intending colonists. The ships brought besides a liberal supply of stores, the company, in the new-broom stage of its existence, being desirous of improving on the methods and practices of its predecessors. Arriving at Quebec on the 23rd of May, Champlain took over the keys of the place from de Caën. His first care was to put the fort and other buildings, which were found to be in a ruinous condition, in proper repair. He next erected a chapel to replace the one formerly in use which had been destroyed; and, at the earnest request of the Huron Indians, he established a fort at Three Rivers to assist in protecting them against the incursions of the implacable Iroquois.[25]

De Caën had brought out one or two Jesuit fathers with him, and others came with Champlain. Why the Récollets did not seize the first opportunity of returning to Canada is not very clear. In the year 1635 they had made arrangements for returning, but were requested by the intendant of the company in France to delay their departure. The next year they were plainly informed that the cardinal did not wish them to go to Canada. They were thus shut out from a mission-field which they had been the first to occupy, and it is not surprising that they felt considerably aggrieved, nor that they were disposed to attribute their exclusion to the machinations of the Jesuit order. The responsibility in the matter seems to have rested with the cardinal. It was he who sent out the Jesuit fathers; and not improbably he thought that there would be less friction and more progress if the field of New France were entrusted to a single order of ecclesiastics than if it were divided between two.

The laborious, useful, and heroic life of Champlain was now drawing to a close. One of the last subjects that engaged his attention was the sale of liquor by traders and colonists to the Indians, a practice against which he issued the most stringent prohibitions, but which, as we shall have further occasion to see, proved a very difficult one to control. In the summer of 1635 he took advantage of the presence at Quebec of a large number of Hurons from the upper country to summon them and the French residents to a general[26] assembly, in order that he might have an opportunity of urging upon them the duty and advantage of espousing the religion professed by the French. If their friendship with the French, he said, was to be maintained and strengthened, they must embrace the faith of the latter; and in that case God, who was all-powerful, would bless and protect them, and give them the victory over their enemies. They would also learn the arts of civilization, and in every way enjoy great happiness and prosperity. What impression this discourse made is not stated. In point of fact the Jesuits, who devoted themselves specially to mission work amongst the Hurons, had eventually a considerable measure of success in converting them to Christianity; but the unhappy tribe, instead of triumphing in war, became a more and more helpless prey to their heathen enemies, and, in about fifteen years from this date, were almost obliterated from the face of the earth.[2]

Not long after the convoking of this assembly Champlain was smitten with paralysis; and on Christmas Day, 1635, he died in the sixty-ninth year of his age. His funeral sermon was preache[27]d by the Superior of the Jesuits, Father Le Jeune, and he was buried with all due honour in—as the Jesuit narrative tells us—a "sépulcre particulier"; but a careless posterity soon forgot even the place of his interment, and to-day the question as to where he was laid is a matter of antiquarian debate. The contingency of his death had been provided for by the company, who had placed in the hands of Father Le Jeune, a sealed letter, giving authority to a M. de Châteaufort to act as interim governor. The following summer M. de Montmagny came out from France as second governor of Canada. He appears to have been a man of firm and upright character, but the position to which he succeeded was an extremely difficult and critical one. The Jesuits were as yet having very limited success in the conversion of the native tribes, and were even incurring a dangerous amount of suspicion and hostility. They were accused of witchcraft; and it began to be commonly said amongst the savages that baptism was a sure precursor of death. There was truth in the allegation just to this extent, that the fathers, for the most part, were only allowed to baptize those who were already in a dying condition, particularly children. The confusion between post hoc and propter hoc is so common among the civilized and instructed, that we cannot be surprised if Hurons and Algonquins were not proof against it. The Iroquois at the same time were becoming more and more daring in their attacks, while the[28] resources of the colony for repelling them were sadly inadequate. The Company of the Hundred Associates had made a fair beginning in the matter of sending out colonists and supplies—forty-five new settlers came out with Montmagny—but in a few years their capital began to run short, and it became a question whether the magnificent powers and privileges they possessed represented a very profitable business arrangement. The consequence was that, just as before under successive trading companies, the interests both of colonization and of defence were neglected.

But, if the company was lapsing into inertness, other agencies, not of a commercial character, were at work laying the foundations of institutions destined to exert a most important and lasting influence on the future life of the colony. The year in which Champlain died witnessed the establishment at Quebec by the Jesuit, M. de Rohault, son of the Marquis de Gamache, of a college for boys. Four years later, in 1639, a vessel arrived from France bearing two ladies, of note, Madame de la Peltrie and Madame Guyard, Mère de l'Incarnation, whose mission was to establish a school for girls, white and Indian, and whose names are illustrious as the founders of the Ursuline Convent. On the same vessel were a number of nuns sent out by the Duchess d'Aiguillon to perform hospital duties: this was the origin of the Hôtel Dieu. In the year 1641 M. de Maisonneuve, a pious layman, conducted to[29] Canada a small band of trusty followers whose destination was the Island of Montreal, where it was proposed to form a strictly Christian colony. With M. de Maisonneuve was a pious lady, Mdlle. Mance, who three years later became the founder of the Hôtel Dieu at Montreal, funds for the purpose having been supplied by a rich benefactress in France, Madame de Bullion. Looking forward nine years, that is to say to 1653, we find the admirable Sister Margaret Bourgeoys establishing at Montreal the Congrégation de Notre Dame for the education of girls. As Garneau well says, "the love of learning and charity gave birth in Canada to all the great establishments destined for public instruction and the alleviation of human suffering."

The question may naturally be asked how it happened that Canada, at this very early stage of its history, attracted so much attention as a field for missionary and educational effort. An explanation is to be found in the fact that the Jesuits, from the time when they first entered on their work in this country, made a practice, under instructions from the head of their order, of writing year by year a narrative of their doings, which they despatched to France, and which was there published and circulated amongst those who were interested in religious work. These narratives constituted the celebrated Relations des Jésuites, which form the chief source of information regarding the history of Canada for a period of over[30] forty years. Of these interesting annals, forty volumes of which in all were published, Parkman has said: "The closest examination has left me no doubt that these missionaries wrote in perfect good faith, and that the Relations hold a high place as authentic and trustworthy historical documents." On the other hand the latest historian of the Jesuits in New France, the Rev. Father Rochemonteix, while also asserting the substantial accuracy of the Relations, acknowledges that "they do not reflect the complete physiognomy of New France; they only show one side of it, the most attractive, the most consoling, namely, the progress of Christianity, its toils and heroic struggles, and the valiant achievements of the colonists. The rest is intentionally left in the shade, passed over in silence. The other side of the physiognomy is omitted, or nearly so. What we have is history, but incomplete history."[3]

It was from these narratives, so carefully and skilfully edited for purposes of edification, [31]that the impulse proceeded which moved pious souls to contribute, in some cases their labours, in others their wealth, to the advancement of the cause of religion in the wilds of Canada. The fathers told of their difficulties and discouragements; but they told also of the many signs vouchsafed that Heaven was interested in their self-sacrificing efforts. Sometimes they made direct appeals for assistance. A Jesuit school for boys had been established, as already mentioned, as early as 1635. A few years later Father Le Jeune writes in the Relations: "Is there no charitable and virtuous lady who will come to this country to gather up the blood of Christ by teaching His word to the little Indian girls?" The call was answered in the establishment of the Ursuline Convent. It is not easy, in these days of swift, safe, and luxurious travel, to imagine what it was in the earlier part of the seventeenth century for women of delicate nurture to leave friends and home and civilized surroundings, and, braving the Atlantic storms in small, ill-equipped and comfortless vessels, to set their faces towards a continent lost in the distant west, amid whose forests a handful of pioneers were doubtfully holding their ground against the scowling hordes of savagery. The historian, Parkman, devotes two chapters of his Jesuits in North America to an account of these enterprises, and of the holy women whose names are inseparably connected with them. In Madame Guyard, Mère de l'Inca[32]rnation, who became Superior of the convent, he recognizes a very true woman, full of tender feeling, yet endowed with practical abilities of the first order. Of Margaret Bourgeoys, founder of the Congrégation de Notre Dame at Montreal, he speaks with equal enthusiasm. "Her portrait," he says, "has come down to us; and her face is a mirror of frankness, loyalty, and womanly tenderness. Her qualities were those of good sense, conscientiousness, and a warm heart. Her religion was of the affections, and was manifested in an absorbing devotion to duty." He recognizes "in the martial figure of Maisonneuve, and the fair form of this gentle nun, the true heroes of Montreal."[4]

Maisonneuve was the true type of the Christian warrior. An association of religious persons at Paris, of whom M. Jean Olier, founder of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, and M. Royer de la Dauversière were chief, had obtained from the Company of New France a grant of the greater portion of the Island of Montreal, and a considerable block of land to the east thereof on the north shore of the river St. Lawrence. To effect this it had been necessary to pay a considerable sum of money to extinguish a prior claim of one M. de Lauson, an officer of the company, to the same territory. Marvellous stories are told of the supernatural communications received by MM. Olier and Dauversière, by which the duty wa[33]s laid upon them of sending a colony for purposes of evangelization to the Island of Montreal, of the existence of which, it is averred, they had no previous knowledge. However this may have been—natural means of knowledge, it may be observed, were available in the Relations of the Jesuits—an association was formed under the title of the Associates of Montreal; money was liberally subscribed; the island was purchased; and the members of the projected colony were brought together. A "Greatheart" was needed to conduct the little band; and Maisonneuve, who was home from the wars of the Low Countries, hearing of the holy enterprise, placed his sword and his life at the service of the association. In the month of May 1641 two small vessels sailed from La Rochelle, one bearing M. de Maisonneuve and twenty-five men, the other Mdlle. Mance, a Jesuit priest, and twelve other men. Both arrived safely at Quebec in the month of August. Governor Montmagny wished to keep what he regarded as a valuable reinforcement at Quebec; but Maisonneuve insisted on carrying out his mission. He went up to Montreal accordingly before the navigation closed, in company with the governor, to take formal possession of the island, but returned to winter in Quebec. In the spring he took his whole party up the river, arriving at Montreal on the 18th of May. Madame de la Peltrie leaving her own work at Quebec accompanied him, only to return, howe[34]ver, after a short stay. An altar was erected on the riverside, and mass was celebrated by the Jesuit father, Vincent, who afterwards delivered an address, in which he said he doubted not that the grain of mustard seed they were then sowing was designed by Providence to become a mighty tree.

The prophecy has been amply fulfilled, but many anxious years had to pass before the destiny of the tree was at all assured. The position of Montreal was far more precarious than that of Quebec, as it was so much more accessible to the sworn enemies of the colony, the Iroquois. For twenty-four years Maisonneuve held the post of military governor, edifying all by his piety, and inspiring confidence in all by his bravery and vigilance. The story of his trials and of his prowess, is it not told, with a rich blending of supernatural elements, in the naïve record of Dollier de Casson, and the more comprehensive and systematic, but equally naïve, history of the learned and unfailingly interesting Abbé Faillon? And yet—such is the irony of human events—when a very pious governor, the Marquis de Tracy, came out in 1665 as the king's lieutenant-general for all his North American possessions, one of his first acts, inspired, it is said, by the council at Quebec, was to dismiss this veteran warrior as being unfit for his position. Making no demur, attempting no self-justification, but bowing to the stroke, which he regarded as an intimation of the will of Providence, the brave Maisonneuve retired quietly to[35] France, where he spent the remainder of his days.

After a service of twelve years as governor M. de Montmagny was relieved in 1648, and replaced by M. d'Ailleboust, who had previously exercised judicial functions at Montreal in close association with M. de Maisonneuve, whom he resembled in the exalted and ascetic character of his piety. The name of Montmagny had been translated by the Indians into "Onontio," signifying "Great Mountain"; and henceforth all French governors were, in Indian parlance, "Great Mountains." M. d'Ailleboust retained office only three years. During his administration, as during that of his predecessor, the Iroquois were incessant in their depredations, which they would sometimes carry on under the very palisades of Montreal. They succeeded during this period in all but exterminating the Hurons, their traditional foes and now allies of the French. One or two treaties were made with the aggressive savages, and once or twice they were repelled with loss; but the treaties were not to be depended on, nor were the defeats such as to give them serious check. One event which marked the latter part of M. de Montmagny's administration must not be overlooked. The Company of New France, or of the Hundred Associates, had, as we have seen, begun operations upon the retrocession of the colony by England in 1632. According to their charter their work was to be one of colonization as well as of trading; but ten years later the total French population of Canada, Montreal in[36]cluded, did not exceed two hundred souls. The country, instead of being developed, was being strangled, the company having absolute control, not only of the fur trade, but of its commerce generally, which it hampered in every possible way. Meantime the company itself was losing money. Negotiations were therefore entered into between the inhabitants, represented by M. de Repentigny, who went to France for the purpose, and the officers of the company. The result being that, in the month of January 1645, a treaty, as it was called, was made between the company on the one hand, and the inhabitants, through their delegate, on the other, by which the former, while retaining all their sovereign proprietary and feudal rights, with power of nominating the governor and the judges, threw open to the latter, not individually but as a community, the fur trade of Canada on condition that they should assume all expenses of civil administration and military defence, pay the salaries of the clergy, bring into the country every year twenty new colonists, and finally hand over to the company annually one thousand pounds weight of assorted beaver skins. The inhabitants were, by this arrangement, which received the royal sanction on the 6th March 1645, formed into a corporation, afterwards called the "New Company," to distinguish it from the Company of New France or the "Old Company." It was understood that the New Company would elect its own managers; while the Old Company reserved the right to[37] keep certain officials of its own in the country to watch over its interests, throwing the cost of their maintenance, however, on the inhabitants in their corporate capacity.

This arrangement was received at the time with some satisfaction by the colonists, but in reality it was a most illiberal one, under which it was impossible for the country to thrive. Its immediate effect was to send nearly all the men of the settlement into the woods, and to turn the wilder and more daring spirits into coureurs de bois, a class of men who will figure largely in our subsequent narrative. Two years later we find the inhabitants complaining to the king that the new scheme was working very badly, and giving rise to serious "abuses and malversations." The king did not know very well what to do about it; but by the advice of certain of his ministers he decided to place the government of the colony on a slightly wider basis, with just the least particle in it of a representative element. To this end he created a council which was to consist of the governor, the ex-governor, if he were in the country, the superior of the Jesuits, pending the appointment of a bishop, and two inhabitants to be selected by the council, or three if the ex-governor were not residing in the country. In addition, the three settlements of Quebec, Montreal, and Three Rivers could each elect a "syndic," to hold office for three years, and to have a deliberative voice in the council, but no vote.[38]

The effect of this measure, which seems to have been adopted without consulting the Company of New France, was to give the council full control of the fur trade of the country. That trade had to bear all the expenses of government, as well as provide for the toll to be paid to the Old Company; and it rested with the council to fix the proportion which the inhabitants should contribute out of the gross proceeds of the furs they either bought from the Indians or procured by the chase. If they bought from the Indians they would have to pay for them with goods purchased at the general stores, which again were controlled by the council or its nominees; and it was a constant matter of complaint that the prices of these goods were so high that it was impossible to trade with the Indians on any favourable terms; the latter, as a rule, having sense enough to put up their prices accordingly. A more burdensome system, or one more liable to abuse, could not easily be imagined.

In 1651, M. de Lauson was sent to replace M. d'Ailleboust. The question at this time was seriously debated whether the colony would not have to be abandoned. The settlement at Montreal was in imminent danger of extinction. Maisonneuve saw clearly that, with the scanty force he had, it was only a matter of time when the place would be at the mercy of the foe. He therefore sailed in this year for France, determined, if he could not obtain reinforcements, to return to Canada and bring all his people back to France. The position of matters at Quebec was[39] little better. Mère de l'Incarnation writes: "The Iroquois have made such ravages in this part of the country that for a time we thought we should all have to return to France." Maisonneuve succeeded in his mission; but he was two years absent from the country, and meantime anxiety both at Quebec and at Montreal was at the highest pitch. He arrived in the month of September 1653, bringing with him over one hundred soldiers carefully chosen and well equipped, furnished, not by the government or the Hundred Associates, who were tolerably indifferent to the fate of Montreal, but by the company which had sent him out in the first place. The governor was anxious to keep the whole force at Quebec; and Maisonneuve had to exercise considerable firmness in order to be permitted to take them all with him to Montreal. It was in the vessel which brought out this detachment that Margaret Bourgeoys, whose name has already been mentioned, came to Canada. She was struck on her arrival by the desperately poverty-stricken look of the country. "There were at the time in the Upper Town" (of Quebec), she says, "only five or six houses, and in the Lower Town only the storehouse of the Jesuits and that of the Montreal people. The hospital nuns were dressed in grey. The poverty on all sides was something pitiable." The Quebec Ursulines were desirous that Sister Bourgeoys should join their community, and afterwards perhaps assist them in establishing a branch of their convent in Montre[40]al; but the future foundress of the Congrégation de Notre Dame knew her own mind. Her purpose in coming to Canada was to establish a school for girls at Montreal, and to Montreal she would go.

The weakness of the colony was painfully exhibited about this time in its dealings with the Iroquois. The principal remnant of the Huron nation, whose original settlements occupied the country between the Georgian Bay and Lake Simcoe, had taken refuge from their cruel enemies in the Island of Orleans just below Quebec. Even here, they were not left in peace. In the month of February 1654 a number of Iroquois came down to Quebec ostensibly to negotiate for peace, but secretly nourishing deadly designs against the unfortunate Hurons. What they proposed was that those who were settled on the Island of Orleans should leave their habitations there, go to the Iroquois country, and incorporate themselves, as a portion of their nation had already done, with the Iroquois confederacy. They also asked that a French colony, including a certain number of priests—"black robes," as they called them—should be planted in their territory. Although these propositions were believed to mask the most murderous intentions, it was considered imprudent to reject them, as the colony was in no condition to withstand the general attack which it was feared would in that case ensue. After some delay, therefore, a colony consisting of over fifty French left Quebec [41]in the early summer of 1656, the understanding being that the Hurons would follow later.

The Iroquois nation or confederacy comprised, as is generally known, five separate tribes, occupying the central and north-western portion of what is now the state of New York, and known—to mention them in geographical order from east to west—as Mohawks, Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas. There was a keen competition between the Mohawks and the Onondagas, both for the French colony and for the possession of the remnant of the Hurons. The colony was sent to the Onondagas; and the Mohawks in a spirit of revenge made a descent on the Island of Orleans, killed a number of Hurons, and carried over eighty into captivity. In their retreat they also committed various depredations under the very walls of Quebec—in so deplorable a condition of helplessness was even the citadel of French power in Canada. Two years later the French colony established among the Onondagas made its escape from impending massacre in a manner little short of miraculous; but meantime, in defiance and contempt of French authority, numbers of unfortunate Hurons had been slaughtered or carried into captivity.

M. de Lauson, the governor, does not seem to have been a man of any great force of character. Moreover he was now over seventy years of age, and, considering the helpless condition in which he was left—practically abandoned by the Old Company[42] and very feebly supported by the New—it is scarcely surprising that he should have anticipated the conclusion of his term of office, and returned to France in the summer of 1656. His son, M. de Charny-Lauson, replaced him for a year, when he too sailed for France without awaiting the arrival of his successor, M. d'Argenson. At his request M. d'Ailleboust consented to act as interim governor.

To the credit of the ecclesiastics it must be said that, whoever despaired of the situation in Canada, they never did. At the very time when the fortunes of the colony were at the lowest ebb, and the secular chiefs were debating whether it would not be necessary to retire, bag and baggage, the subject which chiefly occupied the minds of the clergy was the organization and government of the church. M. de Maisonneuve had brought out with him four Sulpician priests to minister to the needs of the inhabitants of Montreal, and one of them, M. de Queylus, was the bearer of letters from the Archbishop of Rouen, to whose diocese New France was attached, creating him vicar-general for the whole colony. Availing himself of the powers so conferred, M. de Queylus assumed the direction of the church in Canada; and when some signs of reluctance to recognize his authority manifested themselves in Quebec, he went to that city, took personal charge of the parish, and enforced at least an outward show of submission. The Sulpicians had hoped that M. de Queylus would be made bishop; but the Jesuits, who [43]for many years had been in exclusive charge of the religious interests of the colony, were considered to have the best right to make the nomination. They chose, with characteristic wisdom, a man who was destined to fill a most important place in the history of Canada, François Xavier de Laval-Montmorency, Abbé de Montigny. The negotiations for the appointment of the new prelate were of a very perplexed and protracted character, and it was not till the summer of 1659 that he arrived in Quebec, and then not as bishop of Quebec, but as vicar-apostolic, with the title of Bishop of Petraea in partibus. Laval was a man of great piety, and inflexible determination; and for a time there was friction between him and M. de Queylus, who, in his capacity as vicar-general of the Archbishop of Rouen, was disposed to claim an independent position for himself. Laval cut the controversy short by persuading the governor to ship M. de Queylus off to France; and, when he returned the following year, to ship him back again. This time the Sulpician had to remain at home for several years; and the descendant of the Montmorencys achieved the first of a long series of victories over opposing forces.

In mentioning these incidents, however, we have run ahead by two or three years of the strict sequence of events. Argenson, the new governor, arrived on the 11th July 1658. He had hardly been twenty-four hours at his post before the Iroquois gave him a hint what to expect by[44] making a raid in the immediate neighbourhood of Quebec. In the following year the whole country, but particularly Quebec, was thrown into trepidation over the news that an army composed of twelve hundred warriors, gathered from the five Iroquois nations, was advancing with fixed determination to wipe out all the French settlements. It would be needless to repeat here, even if the limits of a very cursory narrative permitted it, the glorious feat of arms by which this great danger was turned aside from the colony. The story of our Canadian Thermopylæ is familiar to every school-boy and school-girl in Canada. Suffice it to say that the constancy of Dollard and the handful of companions who perished with him in defending a position they had hastily fortified on the river Ottawa, directly in the path of the invaders, so disheartened the latter that they relinquished their enterprise. When so few could hold so many at bay, what might not be expected when attack should be made on the fortified posts of Montreal, Three Rivers, and Quebec? The abandonment, however, of their larger design did not involve any discontinuance of their accustomed mode of warfare. We hear of horrible butcheries committed on settlers in the neighbourhood of Montreal and even of Quebec; it seemed as if the colony could never get rest from its tormentors. The new governor was a man of courage and ability, but he lacked the means of effectually guarding against these treacherous attacks, while the destitute[45] condition in which he found the colony filled him with discouragement. Whether general starvation or massacre was the more imminent danger was sometimes a grave question. Other difficulties arose. Argenson and Laval, the civil and religious heads of the state, found themselves at variance on points of ceremony and precedence; and the bishop, whose self-confidence was unbounded, undertook to give the governor certain doubtless well-meant admonitions, which the latter did not take in good part. The governor's health may, or may not, have been good, but he alleged that he was suffering from physical infirmities, and asked for his recall. He left for France in September 1661, his successor, Baron Dubois d'Avaugour, having arrived a few weeks previously. A remark which he made respecting the head of the Canadian church, in a letter written a year before his departure, may perhaps be put on record: "I can say with truth that his zeal on many occasions bears close resemblance to an extraordinary attachment to his own opinions, and a strong desire to encroach on the rights and duties of others."

The Baron d'Avaugour only remained two years in the country. When he arrived an earnest effort was being made by the clergy, headed by the bishop, to have the law against selling liquor to the Indians strictly enforced. The law was not popular in the country, and Avaugour thought it altogether too severe; still he allowed it to take effect in the case of two men who had been[46] sentenced to death, and of one who had been condemned to be publicly whipped. Shortly afterwards a woman was imprisoned for a similar offence, and the Jesuit father, Lalemant, having pleaded for a relaxation of the law in her case, Avaugour, glad of a pretext to do away with it altogether, said that if the woman was not to be punished, no one should be. The result was that liquor began to be sold to the natives almost without restraint, and with effects which one of the ecclesiastics said he had no ink black enough to describe. Doubtless they were bad enough. The bishop fulminated from his episcopal throne against the practice, and launched excommunications right and left, but with little effect. He then decided on going to France and laying the whole matter before the government. He left in the summer of 1662; and it was while he was absent, that is to say in February of the following year, that an earthquake occurred of which the most extraordinary descriptions have come down to us. The only moderate account is that given by Avaugour himself, who says in a despatch: "On the 5th of February we had an earthquake, which continued during half a quarter of an hour, and was sufficiently strong to extort from us a good act of contrition. It was repeated from time to time during nine days, and was perceptible until the last of the month, but steadily diminishing." This was all an unimaginative mind like that of the baron could make of it, but not so with min[47]ds of another order. One pious soul saw four demons tugging at the four corners of the sky, and threatening universal ruin, which they would have effected had not a higher spirit appeared on the scene. We read that the air was filled with howlings as of lost spirits, and flashings of strange, unearthly lights, not to speak of a little detail of blazing serpents flying abroad on wings of fire. But the marvels that took place in the aerial regions were surpassed, if possible, by those that were witnessed on the solid earth. To take only one example out of many: some sailors coming from Gaspé, as Père Charlevoix relates, saw a mountain "skipping like a ram," after which it spun round several times, and finally sank out of sight. Houses swayed to and fro till their walls nearly touched the street, and yet righted themselves in the end. Quebec and Montreal, which, even at this early period, did not pull well together, were somewhat at variance concerning the significance of the phenomenon. At Montreal the favourite theory was that the devil was enraged to find God so well served in the colony; at Quebec the humbler view prevailed that the earthquake was a solemn warning to the people to abandon their evil ways, and be obedient to the teachings of the clergy. Considering that, despite the prohibitions of the clergy, the liquor traffic was just then at its height, the admonition could not have come more opportunely.[48]

Laval, whose reputation for piety gave him great influence, the Abbé Faillon tells us, at the not altogether puritanical court of Louis XIV, was completely successful in his mission. Not only was the uncomplying Avaugour recalled, but the bishop himself was requested to nominate a successor. If the bishop had consulted the men by whom he had himself been chosen, he would likely have got good advice; but he followed his own judgment entirely and made a terrible blunder, as he did in a still more important matter some years later. His choice fell on a M. de Mézy, recommended to him by the possession of an exalted and almost hysterical type of piety; and the two embarking on the same vessel arrived at Quebec on the 15th September 1663.

It would be taking a very one-sided and radically unjust view of Laval's character to consider him simply as a man of ability with a strong propensity to autocratic rule. A man of ability he was, and his temper was unbending; but that, from first to last, he took the deepest and most unselfish interest in the welfare of the Canadian people, and also of the Indian tribes, is not open to a moment's question; nor can it be denied that his views on the whole were broad and statesmanlike. It was when he was in France, in 1662, that he arranged for the establishment of that historic institution, the Quebec Seminary, the higher development of which is seen in the Laval University of to-day. A few years after his return he established the Lesser Seminary (Petit[49] Séminaire), as a school where boys could get a sound education under religious auspices, and whence the more promising among them might be drafted into the Grand Séminaire with a view to their preparation for the priesthood. Memorable also were the services rendered by him in the organization of a parochial system for Canada, which before his advent had been treated almost wholly as a mission field.

In February of the year 1663, the Company of New France, whose affairs had been going from bad to worse, made a voluntary surrender of all their rights and privileges to the king, leaving it to his discretion to make them such compensation as might be just for the capital they had sunk in their not very well-directed efforts. The king accepted the surrender, and, as a means of providing for the better administration of justice in the colony, and also the due control of its finances, he created by royal edict a Sovereign Council, which was to consist of the governor, the bishop, or other senior ecclesiastic, and five councillors chosen by them jointly. A year later he proceeded to charter a completely new company—as if the régime of companies had not been sufficiently tried—under the name of the West India Company. To it the entire trade of all the French possessions in America and on the west coast of Africa was transferred. The new company was virtually the creation of the great administrator, Colbert; and it may be assumed that he trusted[50] to his own vigorous oversight and control to make it a success. He hoped, in fact, to succeed where a Richelieu had failed; experience had yet to teach him that no administrative ability, however eminent, can obtain prosperity from a system of close monopoly.

It was not long before Laval and his pocket governor (as he had hoped Mézy would be) found themselves at daggers drawn. The quarrel was of so trifling a character that its details need not detain us; suffice it to say, that Laval represented the case to the court and procured his nominee's dismissal. The unfortunate man, however, whose weak mind was assailed with the most distressing spiritual fears, when he found himself under the ban of the church, accomplished a hasty reconciliation with the offended powers, and died, desperately penitent, before his successor reached Canada.

The West India Company was empowered by its charter to nominate the governor of Canada, but had voluntarily ceded that power to the king. The latter, under the inspiration probably of Colbert, was now taking a great interest in Canada. He was not going to leave it any longer at the mercy of the Iroquois, if a thousand or more good French soldiers could avail for its protection. As lieutenant-general over all his possessions in America, he appointed a brave old soldier of much distinction, the Marquis de Tracy; as governor of Canada in particular, M. de Courcelles; and as intendant—a new office—M. Jean[51] Baptiste Talon. The Carignan-Salières Regiment, about twelve hundred strong, had been detailed for service in Canada, and was sent out in detachments, which arrived at intervals during the summer; Tracy himself with four companies reaching Quebec in June. Many of the men were landed sick of fever; twenty had died on shipboard in the St. Lawrence. Mère l'Incarnation, in one of her letters, attributes the malady to their having opened the portholes when they got into the river, and let in the fresh air too suddenly. In these days one is apt to conjecture that it was the confined air, not the fresh air, that did the mischief, and that the portholes might with advantage have been opened earlier.

Tracy was eager to move against the enemy, but, as he was obliged to await the arrival of the rest of his troops, he improved the interval by erecting forts on the line of his intended march, one at the mouth of the river Richelieu, known at that time as the Iroquois River, a second at Chambly, some forty miles up the stream, and two others at points still higher up. While this work was in progress Courcelles, the governor, Talon, the intendant, and the remainder of the troops reached Quebec (September 1665). Courcelles was even more eager for war than his superior officer; and as it was too late when the forts were finished, and the health of the troops had been sufficiently restored, to attempt a summer campaign, he obtained the consent of [52]the marquis to organize a mid-winter one. Old inhabitants, who knew something of the rigour of the climate and the difficulties to be encountered on the march, tried to dissuade him from his purpose, but in vain. With a fatuity, of which military history furnishes too many examples, Courcelles despised all such counsels of prudence. He started with five hundred men on the 10th of January, marching on the frozen St. Lawrence. The cold was fearful, and the expedition had proceeded but a short distance when the sufferings of the men became almost unendurable. At Three Rivers a number had to be left behind who had been disabled by frost-bites. Some reinforcements having been obtained at that point, the little army again set forth. Two hundred men out of the whole force were Canadians, and these naturally proved the fittest for the undertaking; nor did their superior quality fail to impress Courcelles. At last the expedition reached the Mohawk country, but the enemy were not there; they had gone off on some warlike adventure of their own. There was some burning of deserted cabins; but the position of the invading force began to be a precarious one, for the winter was now merging into spring, and there was danger that if the ice melted in the streams, their retreat would be cut off. The Mohawks were already hovering in their rear. By the time they reached the nearest of their forts they had lost sixty men by cold and hunger. The only thing that can be said in favour of the[53] expedition is that it greatly impressed the minds of the Iroquois, as proving that the French had now the means of turning the tables on them and carrying the war into their own country.

The Iroquois showed some disposition to negotiate for peace; but nothing came of it, and in September a larger expedition set out, commanded by Tracy himself, with Courcelles as second in command. This time they not only reached the Iroquois country, but, the savages having fled in panic, they were able at their ease to destroy a number of fortified villages and large quantities of food that had been laid up for the winter. The Iroquois were deeply impressed by these vigorous proceedings. They saw that a great change had come over the situation and resources of the French colony, when, instead of submitting helplessly to attack, they could equip two expeditions in one year to seek them out in their own habitations. They hastened, therefore, to renew their propositions of peace, and, as this time they were clearly in earnest, Tracy concluded a peace with them which held good for several years. The colony now had a rest, and the beneficial effects of it were soon evident. Two years later the Jesuit annalist writes: "It is beautiful now to see nearly all the banks of our river St. Lawrence occupied by new settlements, stretching along more than eighty leagues, making navigation not only more agreeable by the sight of houses dotting the riverside, but also more convenient through an increase[54] in the number of resting-places." A charming picture is here given in very simple words.

We have already had occasion to mention incidentally the dismissal by Tracy of Maisonneuve. Whatever the motive of this harsh act may have been, its consequences were most unhappy. Maisonneuve was a man of incorruptible integrity. His successor, François Marie Perrot, was a man of good family and fine appearance, who enjoyed considerable protection at court and needed it all, for he had simply the instincts of a dishonest trader, and used his office for the sole purpose of personal gain. Tracy's connection with Canada was brief, for he was recalled in the year following that in which he made his campaign against the Iroquois, and the government of the country was left in the hands of Courcelles and Talon; the former, as governor, representing the king in a military, political, and high administrative capacity; while the latter, as intendant, was entrusted with all that concerned the finances of the colony and its industrial and commercial development. The two heads of the state seem to have worked together at first, and for a considerable time, with commendable harmony. The governor was a judicious and capable administrator; the intendant, a man of wide views, of singular discretion, and of indefatigable industry. The Abbé Gosselin, in his Life of Laval, says that Talon "troubled himself little about the moral condition of the colony so long as he saw its commerce[55] and industry flourishing"; and again that "he was never well disposed to the clergy, whose influence he feared, dreading that they might become too rich." It is probably the case that he was not very sympathetic with the ecclesiastical powers of the day, but he certainly did apply himself to promote the material prosperity of the colony. Amongst other things he caused three vessels to be built which were despatched to the West Indies with cargoes of dried fish, staves, and lumber; and also established a brewery at Quebec, in the hope of abating the consumption of imported spirits. If he did not achieve a larger measure of success, it was because little was possible under a system of combined monopoly and paternalism. His reports to the home government speak of the country as prosperous. In 1670 he writes that the money granted by the king for the encouragement of families, and the different industries established, have had such a good effect, that now no one dares to beg, unless perhaps some unprotected child too young to work, or some man too old to work or incapacitated by accident or disease.

A census of the country taken by the intendant in the year 1666 showed a total population of 3418. The estimated number of men capable of bearing arms being 1344. The old Company of the Hundred Associates was, by the terms of its contract to have brought 4000 settlers to the colony in fifteen years, dating from 1633; but Talon's figures proved that, in more than[56] twice fifteen years, the whole population still fell considerably short of that number. The population of Quebec at this time was 555, of Montreal 584, and of Three Rivers 461. The seigniory of Beaupré below Quebec had 678 inhabitants and the Island of Orleans 471. The French government had for some years been showing much zeal in sending out settlers to Canada, and it was chiefly owing to its efforts that the population had increased to the extent indicated by the census. The total number of state-directed immigrants from 1664 to the close of the year 1671 is estimated at over 2500—a most substantial addition to the strength of the colony. The Sulpicians must also be credited with some useful activity in the cause of colonization. Their settlers were of course directed to Montreal, and, as the figures above quoted show, the population of that place already exceeded that of Quebec.

The patent granted to the Company of New France, or of the Hundred Associates, had made them lords of the whole territory of Canada, with power to concede seigniories therein of varying degrees of extent, importance and dignity. A few seigniories were established by that company; but, as we have seen, the country under its management was practically at a stand-still. All the rights which it had in the disposition of the land were transferred to the West India Company; and under Talon's régime the creation of seigniories proceeded much more rapidly, owing mainly to the fact that there[57] were suitable applicants for them in the officers of the regiments which the king had sent out. The last few weeks he spent in the country were mainly occupied in this way. In one month he issued sixty patents.[5] This was entirely in accordance with the intentions of the French government, which had promised lands to any of the officers or soldiers of the Carignan Regiment who might elect to settle in the country. A large number accepted the proposition; and to provide wives for the excess of men existing in the colony the government was assiduous in sending out marriageable girls, on the whole very carefully selected, who as a rule were snapped up immediately on arrival by wistful bachelors or disconsolate widowers. If any were slow in finding partners owing to lack of visible attractions, they were bonused in money and household goods, which usually had the effect desired. Bounties were moreover paid throughout the colony for early and fruitful marriages; and the administrators were instructed to see that special respect was paid to the fathers of large families, and particularly to those who, having large families, had succeeded in marrying off their boys and girls at an early age. Contrariwise, fathers whose children showed backwardness in entering on matrimony were to be the objects of official displeasure. Parkman expresses the truth with his usual picturesque force when he says that, "throu[58]ghout the length and breadth of Canada, Hymen, if not Cupid, was whipped into a frenzy of activity." A gratifying success attended these practical measures. By the year 1671 the total population had increased to six thousand. There were in that year seven hundred baptisms; and the bishop, from doubtless reliable sources of information, was able to promise the governor eleven hundred for the next year. Unfortunately infant mortality was in those days extremely high; or the population would indeed have been increasing by leaps and bounds.

It is a matter of regret that the early historians of Canada feel themselves obliged to record a decline in the morals of the country, dating from the arrival of the king's troops in 1665. Up to that time, we are told, the inhabitants—those in the Montreal district at least—had lived in a condition of pristine simplicity and innocence, recalling that of the early Christians. No one locked his house by day or night, the crime of theft being unknown. The ordinances of the church were strictly observed by the whole population; but, if on occasion any one failed in his duty, punishment promptly followed. For example, a man on the Island of Orleans, having eaten meat on a Friday, was fined twenty-five francs, half of which went to the parish church, and threatened with corporal punishment if he repeated the offence. "Here," observes the Abbé Faillon with quiet enthusiasm, "we see the true destination of the secular power."[59]

But—ages of gold have a tendency to vanish away, and the Astraea of the French colony took her sad flight shortly after the Carignan-Salières Regiment arrived. These men had the pleasure-loving ways of soldiers, and war had not trained them to a very strict regard for personal rights or clerical admonitions. A ball was given at Quebec—the first ever held in the country—on the 4th February 1667. The clergy held their breath, not knowing what might follow. Many abuses, it would seem, followed: morals began to be relaxed; thefts became sufficiently common to bring bolts and locks into requisition; a Seneca chief was cruelly murdered by three soldiers; and shortly afterwards six Indians were massacred in their sleep by some settlers near Montreal. The object of the latter crime was to obtain possession of a large quantity of furs which the Indians had brought down to sell. That peace with the natives was gravely imperilled by these atrocious deeds may readily be imagined. It took all the firmness and tact of the governor to avoid an outbreak. The three soldiers were shot by his orders in the presence of a number of Indians. The other criminals seem to have escaped punishment by flight.

The last important act of Courcelles was to undertake a journey up the St. Lawrence as far as the outlet of Lake Ontario. The object of this adventure was to impress upon the more distant Iroquois tribes, who had boasted that they were out of reach of the French arms, that such was not the case. The idea which these savages had was[60] that the only route by which the French could penetrate into their country was by way of the river Richelieu and Lake Champlain, in which case they would have first to pass through the "buffer" territory of the eastern Iroquois tribes. The rapids of the St. Lawrence, they thought, would effectually bar approach by way of Lake Ontario. To demonstrate their error, Courcelles gave orders for the construction of a flat-boat of two or three tons burden, which could be rowed in smooth water, and dragged up difficult places on the rapids. When this craft was ready, he manned it with a crew of eight men; and, taking also thirteen bark canoes, he ascended the river successfully with a party of over fifty men, including the governor of Montreal and other leading officials. The Iroquois (Cayugas and Senecas) took due note of the feat and revised their opinions accordingly.

In the following year both Courcelles and Talon were recalled at their own request. There had been friction between them for some time, and they seem to have thought that it would be best for the king's service that they should both retire. Whatever the causes of difference may have been, they did not squabble in public like some of their successors. The services of both were highly appreciated by the French government, and the departure of both from Canada was very generally and sincerely regretted.

CHAPTER III

THE BEGINNING OF FRONTENAC'S ADMINISTRATION

The information we possess respecting the life of Count Frontenac prior to his appointment to the governorship of Canada is far from being as complete as might be wished. Such particulars as the records of the period furnish have been carefully gathered by Parkman and others;[6] and it is doubtful whether any further facts of importance will come to light. He was born—there is nothing to show where—in 1620, one year after the great minister, Colbert, under whom he was destined to serve. His family belonged to the small principality of Béarn, now incorporated in the Department of the Basses Pyrénées, which, made an appanage to the French Crown by Henry of Navarre, was only formally incorporated with the kingdom of France in the very year in which Frontenac was born. His father, Henri de Buade, was colonel of the regiment of Navarre, but has not otherwise passed into history. His grandfather, Antoine de Buade, Seigneur de Frontenac and Baron de Palluau, was a man of more distinction, being not only state councillor under Henry IV, but first steward of the royal household and governor of St. Germain-en-Laye. He[62] is described in the memoirs of Philip Hurault as "one of the oldest servants of the king." His children used to play familiarly with the dauphin, afterwards Louis XIII; and the association thus formed lasted for some time after their playmate became king, which he did, nominally, at the age of nine, upon the assassination of his father, Henry IV. The Frontenac family was thus noble, though not of the highest nobility; and its connection with the domestic life of the royal family gave it no doubt an additional measure of influence. The youthful king, with whom the young Frontenacs played, became the father of Louis XIV.

Louis de Buade, Count Frontenac, the subject of this narrative, felt early in life a call to arms. The Thirty Years' War broke out in 1618; and when France, in 1635, under the astute guidance of Cardinal Richelieu, interfered on the Protestant side, Frontenac, then fifteen years of age, was sent to Holland to serve under the Prince of Orange. He seems to have acquitted himself with bravery and distinction in many different sieges and engagements both in the Low Countries and in Italy. He was wounded many times: at the siege of Orbitello in 1646 he had an arm broken. In this year he was raised to the rank of maréchal de camp, or brigadier-general. Three years before, at the age of twenty-three, he had been made colonel of the regiment of Normandy. His service appears to have been continuous, o[63]r nearly so, till the war was brought to a conclusion in 1648 by the Peace of Westphalia. In the year mentioned we find him resting from the alarms and fatigues of war in his father's house on the Quai des Célestins at Paris. Close by lived an attractive young lady of sixteen, daughter of a certain M. de la Grange-Trianon, Sieur de Neuville, with whom, as became his age and profession, the returned warrior fell deeply in love. His passion was returned sufficiently to lead the young lady, when her father's consent could not be obtained, to marry her suitor at one of the churches in Paris authorized to solemnize marriages, in more or less urgent cases, without the consent of parents. The marriage was not a happy one. Madame de Frontenac soon conceived a positive aversion for her husband, and they seem, at a very early period, to have ceased to live together, though not before the birth of a son. The child was placed in the charge of a village nurse, and little more is heard of him, except that when he grew up he embraced the profession of arms, and died, it is not certain how, at a comparatively early age. The mother joined the train of Mademoiselle de Montpensier. These were the days of the Fronde—the abortive rebellion against the fiscal iniquities of Mazarin during the minority of Louis XIV—and in following the fortunes of her patroness, whose father, the king's uncle, had joined the opposition, the young countess had some strange adventures.[64]

What part, if any, Frontenac himself took in the troubles of the period, does not appear; probably none, for although somewhat turbulent by nature, as will abundantly appear hereafter, he was not without a large element of caution, particularly where persons in high authority were concerned. It is certain, at least, that, when the strife was over, he enjoyed a good position at court, as Mademoiselle de Montpensier notes, having met him more than once in the cabinet of the queen. He possessed a property on the Indre, in the neighbourhood of Blois, and here he attempted to keep up a state far beyond his income. "Your means are very slender and your waste is great," said the chief-justice to Sir John Falstaff; and the same observation might not inaptly have been addressed to Frontenac. He prided himself extravagantly upon his horses, his table, his servants—in a word, on everything that was his; entertained largely, and ran himself hopelessly into debt. In 1669 the French government sent a contingent to assist the Venetians in defending Candia (Crete), against the Turks. The Venetians offered to place their own troops under French command, and Frontenac had the high honour of being recommended by Turenne, the greatest military leader of the age, for the position. In this struggle the Turks triumphed; the island fell into their power; and Frontenac returned to France with enhanced military prestige, but without any amelioration of his financial position. Saint Simon describes him as "a man of good abilities, holding[65] a prominent position in society, but utterly ruined." He adds that he could not bear the haughty temper of his wife, and that his appointment as governor of Canada was given to him in order to relieve him of her, and afford him some means of living. His wife's temper was not more haughty probably than his own; neither apparently was disposed to show any deference to the wishes of the other. Madame de Frontenac, who was a woman of keen intelligence, without any large amount of feminine tenderness, took too dispassionate a measure of her husband's qualities to satisfy his rather exacting self-esteem. She must have had some means of her own, for, though she did not go to court, she lived for many years surrounded by the best people and enjoying a high degree of social authority. Though she did not accompany her husband to Canada, and probably was not invited to do so, it is plausibly conjectured that her influence in court circles stood him in good stead on more than one occasion.

Frontenac's commission as governor was dated 6th April 1672, but he did not leave France till midsummer. It is interesting to know that M. de Grignan, Madame de Sévigné's son-in-law, was a candidate for the same position. Had he obtained it, and had his wife, the accomplished daughter of a still more accomplished mother, accompanied him, what flashes of light on Canadian society might we not have obtained from that mother's correspondence! Unfortunately no vestige of[66] Frontenac's private correspondence with either his wife or any one else remains. Courcelles and Talon were still at Quebec when he arrived. From the former he obtained a full account of his expedition to Lake Ontario; and from the latter much information as to the general condition of the country, the various enterprises in the way of exploration that had already been undertaken, and the further ones that it might be well to organize. Frontenac, who had the eye of a soldier for a good military position, was much impressed by what Courcelles told him of Cataraqui; and from the first the idea of establishing a fortified post at that point took strong possession of his mind.

The new governor was not a young man—he was fifty-two years of age—but his natural force, either of body or of mind, was not abated. To a man of his tastes and habits there were many privations involved in a residence in a country like Canada; but there were compensations, the chief of which, perhaps, was to be found in the opportunity afforded him of exercising a semi-royal pomp and power; while a close second, it cannot be doubted, was the chance of rehabilitating his shattered fortunes. It would be unjust, at the same time, to suppose that the man who had fought through so many hard campaigns was not sincerely desirous of serving his king and country in the new position to which he had been assigned. The first important step that he took was a charac[67]teristic one, namely, an attempt to constitute in Canada the "three estates" of nobles, clergy, and people, of which the kingdom of France was nominally constituted. True, the three estates, or "States-General," as they were properly called, had not been summoned in the mother country since 1614, and it was doubtful if their existence as an organ of political authority, or even of political opinion, was more than theoretical. This fact might have caused another man to hesitate, but not Count Frontenac; to him the idea of gathering representatives of the country round him, marshalling them in their respective orders, and, after addressing them in the name of the king, requiring them to take the oath of allegiance in his presence, was too alluring to be put aside. So the summons went forth, and the assembly was held on one of the last days of October in the new church of the Jesuits. The "estates" were constituted, the oaths were taken, and the governor stirred the feelings of his audience, consisting, he says, of over a thousand persons, by referring to the victories which his royal master had that year achieved in his war with Holland. Everything, indeed, passed off beautifully; but when a report of the proceedings reached the minister, Colbert, his response was of a somewhat chilling nature. The immediate effect of the assembly might, perhaps, he said, be good, but "it is well for you to observe that, as you are always to follow the forms in force here, and as our kings have co[68]nsidered it for a long time advantageous not to assemble the States-General of their kingdom, with the object perhaps of insensibly abolishing that ancient form, you also ought only very rarely, or—to speak more correctly—never, give that form to the corporate body of the inhabitants of that country." Colbert did not even approve—though perhaps on this point he was expressing more particularly the views of the king—of the election of "syndics" to represent the interests of the population of Quebec. "Let every one," he said, "speak for himself; it is not desirable to have any one authorized to speak for all." This was absolutism with a vengeance. It answered for the day; but could the minister have looked forward to 1789 he would have seen that the "ancient form," which it was proposed to extinguish by desuetude, was destined, like a blazing star that suddenly flashes a strange light in the heavens, to leap into a new life, amazing, consuming, resistless.

The views of the governor, it must be admitted, were, in this whole matter, decidedly in advance of those of the minister, able administrator as the latter undoubtedly was. Frontenac had come to Canada to uphold the royal authority in the fullest sense, but he appears to have had a perception that, in a new country where so much responsibility was necessarily thrown upon individuals, there ought to be a certain measure of spontaneous political life. Masterful [69]as he was himself by nature, it is not recorded that he ever dwelt on the necessity of repressing individual liberty; it is the intendant, Meulles, a dozen years later, who writes: "It is of very great importance that the people should not be allowed to speak their minds."[7]

No, the quarter in which Frontenac conceived the authority of his royal master might, perhaps, be threatened, was a different one altogether; in other words the battle he foresaw was not against the political aspirations of the people, but against the excessive claims and pretensions of the ecclesiastical power. This idea did not originate in his own mind. The instructions which he brought out with him, while they eulogized the zeal and piety of the Jesuits, hinted that they might seek to extend their authority beyond its proper limits, in which case Frontenac was to "give them kindly to understand the conduct they ought to observe"; and if they did not amend their ways, he was, as the document read, "skilfully to oppose their designs in such a way that no rupture may ensue, and no distinct intention on your part to thwart their purposes may be apparent." The court had, indeed, for several years been under the impression that cautions of this kind to its representatives were necessary. In Talon's instructions, drafted in the year 1664, the troubles that had occurred between previous governors and the[70] bishop were rehearsed, and the inference was at least suggested that these might in part have arisen from the domineering spirit of the prelate. He had had his way with Argenson, Avaugour, and Mézy; but, if the civil power was not to pale entirely before the ecclesiastical, it was about time that the series of his victories should close. Other despatches to Courcelles, Bouteroue (interim intendant during Talon's temporary absence in France), and Frontenac himself contain observations of a like tenor.

The redoubtable vicar-apostolic was not in Canada when Frontenac arrived. He had sailed for France in the month of May to press the important matter of his appointment as bishop of Quebec. A letter which he wrote to the cardinals of the propaganda almost immediately on his arrival serves to show the reasons he had for desiring this change of status, and, incidentally, his opinion of the civil officers of the Crown. "I have learnt," he says, "by a long experience how insecure the office of vicar-apostolic is against those who are entrusted with political affairs, I mean the officers of the court, the perpetual rivals and despisers of the ecclesiastical power, who steadily contend that the authority of a vicar-apostolic is open to doubt, and should be kept within certain limits. That is why, having considered the whole matter very carefully, I have fully determined to resign that office, and not to return to New France, unless the bishopric of Quebec is constituted, and unl[71]ess I am provided and armed with the bulls constituting me the Ordinary."[8] These are the words of a man who knows his own mind, and, we may add, of one who is prepared to fight his enemies to a finish. He may not have known, before he arrived in France, what man, and what kind of a man, had been selected as successor to Courcelles; but we may be sure that, when he found out, he was not less impressed than before with the need for a strengthening of his position.

Louis XIV had himself for thirteen years been pressing, at intervals, upon the Holy See the expediency of establishing a bishopric in New France, but without much success. There were some points of difference between the French court and the Roman authorities as to the conditions under which the projected diocese should be created, and the latter showed a wonderful skill in prolonging the negotiations. Finally, the only point in dispute was whether the new bishop should be a suffragan of one of the French archbishops, as desired by the king, or directly dependent on the Pope. This point was conceded by the king in December 1673; but it was not till October 1674 that the necessary bull was issued. In the following April Laval took the oath of fealty to the king as bishop of Quebec, with jurisdiction over the whole of Canada, and shortly afterwards he set sail for the scene of his pastoral labours. Thus it was that for nearly three years[72] Frontenac had no direct relations with the head of the Canadian church.

Was this interval, then, one of peace? Not entirely. Frontenac defines his position and raises a note of alarm in his very first despatch to the minister for the colonies.[9] He was dissatisfied, he said, with "the complete subserviency of the priests of the seminary at Quebec, and the bishop's vicar-general to the Jesuit fathers, without whose orders they never do anything. Thus," he adds, "they [the Jesuits] are indirectly the masters of whatever relates to the spiritual, which, as you are aware, is a great machine for moving all the rest." He thinks they have gained an ascendency even over the Superior of the Récollets;[10] and he expresses the wish that the ecclesiastics of that order could be replaced by abler men who could hold their own against the Jesuit influence. He mentions that he had expressed his surprise in strong[73] terms to the Jesuit fathers at Ste. Foy that not one of their Indian converts had been taught the French language, and had told them that they "should bethink themselves, when rendering the savages subjects of Jesus Christ, of making them subjects of the king also—that the true way to make them Christians was to make them men." The governor had probably noticed that lack of vigorous, self-helping manhood in the Indian converts, which is hinted at even in the Jesuit Relations, and which had certainly been conspicuous in the christianized Huron tribe in the crisis of their struggle with the Iroquois. As regards teaching them the French language, the missionaries had their own well-defined reasons for not doing so. They did not wish to bring them into too close contact with the French inhabitants, lest they should unlearn the lessons of morality and religion that had been taught to them. The great object which the priests had in view was to build up a kingdom not of this world; and, as the object which the king and his officers had mainly in view was to enlarge and strengthen the French dominions, it is not surprising that there was clashing now and again. Frontenac, in writing to Colbert, seems to have felt assured of sympathy in his somewhat anti-clerical, or, at least, anti-Jesuit, attitude; otherwise he would never have ventured to make, as he does in the same despatch, the unjustifiable statement that the Jesuit missionaries were quite as much interested [74]in the beaver trade as in the conversion of souls, and that most of their missions were pure mockeries. It was of Colbert that Madame de Maintenon said: "He only thinks of his finances, and never of religion."

But while the elements of future trouble were plainly visible, no serious friction occurred during the first year of the new governor's administration. His relations with the Jesuit order were civil, and with the Sulpicians, at Montreal, and the Récollets entirely friendly. With the Sovereign Council, too, they were all that could be wished. His mind at this time was greatly taken up with the project he had in view of following in Courcelles' footsteps and establishing a military and trading post at Cataraqui. His general policy when he wanted to do a thing was not to ask permission beforehand, but to do it, and trust to the result for justification. Had he laboured under Nelson's disability, he would have been quite capable of turning his blind eye to a prohibitive signal, even after seeing it distinctly with his good one. In his despatch to Colbert of the 2nd November he mentions, in a casual way, that he proposes next spring to visit the place at the outlet of Lake Ontario where M. de Courcelles had projected the establishment of a fort, in order that he may be able "the better to understand its site and importance, and to see if, notwithstanding our actual weakness, it be not possible to create some establishment there that would also strengthen the settlement[75] the gentlemen of Montreal [the Sulpicians] have already formed at Quinté." He adds: "I beg of you, my Lord, to be assured that I shall not spare either care or trouble, or even my life itself, if it be necessary, in the effort to accomplish something pleasing to you, and to prove the gratitude I shall ever feel for the favours I have received at your hands." This is quite effusive, and at the same time tolerably diplomatic. How could the minister do otherwise than approve an enterprise undertaken in so self-sacrificing a spirit, and one prompted by so much personal devotion to himself? Colbert might possibly have replied—if he had had the chance—by pointing Frontenac to his instructions, and asking him to show his devotion to duty by following them out as closely as possible. Those instructions contained the following clause, the tenor of which we shall find repeated in many subsequent communications from the home government: "Sieur de Frontenac is to encourage the inhabitants by all possible means to undertake the cultivation and clearing of the soil; and as the distance of the settlements from one another has considerably retarded the increase thereof, and otherwise facilitated the opportunities of the Iroquois for their destructive expeditions, Sieur de Frontenac will consider the practicability of obliging those inhabitants to make contiguous clearings, either by constraining the old colonists to labour at it for a certain time, or by making new grants to future settlers under this conditi[76]on." There is not a word said about extending the boundaries of the colony, or throwing out advanced posts, or any other phase of the policy of expansion. The French government was in fact strongly anti-expansionist; but Frontenac, resembling in this point a later sage, did not think they knew everything in the "Judee" of the ministry of marine and colonies.

So, just about the time that the minister was inditing the despatch in which he gently chided the ebullient Frontenac for his rashness in summoning the States-General, the latter was preparing another little surprise for him. In the spring of the year he had given orders that men and canoes should be held in readiness for the contemplated movement; and, as the supply of available canoes was likely to fall short, he had ordered that a number of new ones should be built. He also directed the construction of two flat-boats, similar to the one used by Courcelles, but of twice the capacity. On the 3rd of June he started with a certain force from Quebec, and after visiting and inspecting different posts along the river, arrived at Montreal, the point of rendezvous, on the 15th of the same month. Here he was received, according to his own account, which there is no reason to question, with the greatest enthusiasm and éclat.

It may be interesting to pause for a moment and try to reconstruct in imagination the scene on which the grizzled and sun-beaten warrior gazed as he alighted from his canoe at five [77]o'clock in the afternoon of that long, bright summer day. The river bank, which had become a common, was probably no longer flower-bespread as it was on that glorious morning in the month of May 1642 when Maisonneuve, Mademoiselle Mance, and their companions knelt in prayer on the soil which their labours and sacrifices were to consecrate; but the mountain, with its leafy honours thick upon it, stood forth in royal splendour, while cultivated fields, smiling with the promise of a harvest, sloped upwards to its base. In the foreground was the growing burg, full of life and animation on this memorable day. To the left was the fort built by Maisonneuve, no longer relied on for defence, but used chiefly as a residence for the local governor. The river front was as yet unoccupied by houses, the nearest line of which lay along what is now, as it was then, St. Paul Street, from St. Peter Street in the west to somewhat beyond the present Dalhousie Square in the east. Montreal as yet did not possess any parish church; the churches maintained by the different congregations, particularly that of the Hôtel Dieu, having up to this time been made to serve the needs of the population. The foundations of a regular parish church had been laid, but the work of construction was proceeding slowly, and five years had yet to elapse before the edifice was finished. The principal buildings were the Hôtel Dieu, which had lately lost its pious founder, Mademoiselle Mance; the Congrégation de Notre[78] Dame, still conducted by the brave and cheery Margaret Bourgeoys; and the Seminary of St. Sulpice. The whole town, if we may so call it, was comprised between the eastern and western limits just defined, and the northern and southern ones of St. Paul and St. James Streets; even so, much the larger part of the contained space was not built up. A few of the wealthier merchants had erected substantial houses, and there was something already in the appearance of the place which suggested that it would have a future. We can imagine the zeal with which the local governor, Perrot, upon whose proceedings in the way of illicit traffic it is probable Frontenac already had an eye—an eye of envy the Abbé Faillon somewhat harshly suggests—would receive the king's direct representative. All the troops that the island could furnish were drawn up under arms at the landing-place, and salvos of artillery and musketry gave emphasis to the official words of welcome. The officers of justice and the "syndic"—the spokesman of the people in municipal matters—were next presented, and, after they had delivered addresses, a procession was formed to the church, at the door of which the clergy were waiting to receive the viceregal visitor with all due honour. By the time the appropriate services, including the chanting of the Te Deum, had been concluded, the sun had sunk behind the mountain. It was the hour for rest and refreshment, and the governor was conducted to the quarters assigned[79] to him in the fort, beneath the windows of which tranquilly rolled the mighty flood of the St. Lawrence, still bright with the evening glow.

Frontenac had brought with him his military guard, consisting of twenty men or so, his staff, and a few volunteers. Additional men were to follow from Quebec, Three Rivers, and other places; and some were to be recruited at Montreal. In ten or twelve days everything was in readiness. A waggon-road had been made to Lachine, over which baggage, provisions, and munitions of war were conveyed; and a start was made from that point on the 30th June, the whole force consisting of about four hundred men, including some Huron Indians, in one hundred and twenty canoes and the two flat-boats already mentioned. Some time before setting out Frontenac had sent on, as an envoy to the five Iroquois nations, to invite them to a conference, Cavelier de la Salle, a man who had already penetrated some distance into the western country, and who was destined to achieve the highest fame as an explorer.

The voyage up the river was attended, as had indeed been expected, with serious difficulty. The united strength of fifty men was necessary to draw each of the flat-boats up the side of some of the rapids. The whole force, however, worked with the utmost zeal and good-will; the Hurons in particular accomplishing wonders of strength and endurance such as they had never been known[80] to perform for any previous commander. But if portions of the journey were thus arduous, others were delightful. Thus we read in Frontenac's own narrative: "It would be impossible to have finer navigation or more favourable weather than we had on the 3rd of July, a light north-east breeze having sprung up which enabled our bateaux to keep up with the canoes. On the 4th we pursued our journey and came to the most beautiful piece of country that can be imagined, the river being strewn with islands, the trees in which are all either oak or other kinds of hard wood, while the soil is admirable. The banks on both sides of the river are not less charming, the trees, which are very high, standing out distinctly and forming as fine groves as you could see in France. On both sides may be seen meadows covered with rich grass and a vast variety of lovely wild flowers; so that it may be safely stated that from the head of Lake St. Francis to the next rapid above, you could not see a more beautiful country, if only it were cleared a bit."

On the 12th July, as the expedition was approaching Cataraqui in excellent military order, they were met by the Indians, who evinced much pleasure at seeing the count and his followers, and conducted them to a spot suitable for encampment. Some preliminary civilities were exchanged, but it was not till the 17th that serious negotiations were begun. The count, meanwhile, having found close by what he considered an[81] advantageous location for his proposed fort, set his men to work to clear the ground, fell and square timber, dig trenches, etc., in a manner which fairly surprised the Indians, who were not accustomed to seeing building operations carried on so systematically and speedily. But if they were impressed by the working capacity of the expeditionary force, they were still more deeply influenced by the discourse of the governor and the presents which accompanied it. Had the count been a "black robe" himself, he could not have spoken with more unction or more unimpeachable orthodoxy in urging his savage hearers to embrace Christianity. He condensed, for the occasion, the whole of Christian teaching into the two great commandments of love to God and love to man, and appealed to the consciences of his hearers as to whether both were not entirely reasonable. This portion of his speech, in which he also declared that he desired peace both between the French and the Iroquois, and between the latter and all Indian tribes under French protection, was recommended by a present of fifteen guns and a quantity of powder, lead, and gunflints. Next he informed them of his intention to form a trading-post at Cataraqui. "Here," he said, "you will find all sorts of refreshments and commodities, which I shall cause to be furnished to you at the cheapest rate possible." He added, however, that it would be very expensive to bring goods so far, and that they must[82] take that into consideration in criticizing prices. Twenty-five large overcoats were distributed at this point. In the third place he reproached them with their cruel treatment of the Hurons, and said that he meant to treat all the Indian nations alike, and wished all to enjoy equal security and equal advantages in every way. "See," he said, "that no complaints are made to me henceforward on this subject, for I shall become angry; as I insist that you Iroquois, Algonquins, and other nations that have me for a father, shall live henceforth as brothers." He asked also that they would let him have a few of their children that they might learn the French language and be instructed by the priests. Twenty-five shirts, an equal number of pairs of stockings, five packages of glass beads, and five coats were given to round off this appeal.

The reply of the delegates of the five Iroquois nations was in tone and temper all that could be wished. They thanked Onontio that he had addressed them as children, and were glad that he was going to assume towards them the relation of father. They readily consented to live at peace with the Hurons and Algonquins, and would, when they returned to their cantons, carefully consider the question of letting him have a certain number of their children. One delegate showed his financial acumen by observing that, while Onontio had promised to let them have goods as cheap as possible at the fort, he had not said what the tariff would be. To this the count replied that[83] he could not say what the freight would amount to, but that considering them as his children, he would see that they were fairly treated. Another, a Cayugan, evinced his knowledge of current history by lamenting the calamities which the Dutch were suffering in their war with the French, trade relations between the Dutch and the Iroquois having always been very satisfactory. He consoled himself, however, with the thought that his nation would now find a father in Onontio.

While the negotiations were in progress, work on the fort was proceeding rapidly, and by the 20th of the month it was finished. The count then dismissed the body of his force, the men being anxious to return to their homes. He himself remained behind to meet some belated delegates from points on the north shore of Lake Ontario, whom he did not fail to reprove for their want of punctuality, after which, with rare liberality of speech, he repeated to them all he had said to the others. A few days' delay was also caused by the necessity of awaiting a convoy from Montreal with a year's provisions for the fort. Finally, on the 28th July, the governor and his party started on their homeward journey and arrived safely at Montreal on the 1st of August. During the whole expedition not one man or one canoe was lost.

The narrative of this expedition has been given in some detail because it sets in a strong light the better side of Frontenac's character. We see him[84] here as the able and vigorous organizer, the firm, judicious, and skilful commander, the accomplished diplomat, and the lover of peace rather than war. Short a time as he had been in the country, he seemed already to understand the Indian character, and the Indians in turn understood him. His language in addressing them was direct and simple, frank and courageous. He had no hesitation in assuming the paternal relation, and won their hearts by doing so. But it was not only over savages that he exerted a natural ascendency, for we have seen the zeal and enthusiasm with which his orders were executed by the whole expeditionary force. Whatever weaknesses he may have had, it was not in the field or in active service that they were displayed.

The memorandum, which serves as authority for the facts just narrated, was addressed to Colbert, and sent to France by a ship sailing from Quebec shortly before the close of navigation. The minister's reply was dated 17th May of the following year. He does not at all congratulate Frontenac upon his exploit. "You will readily understand," he says, "by what I have just told you,[11] that his Majesty's intention is not that you undertake great voyages by ascending the river St. Lawrence, nor that the inhabitants spread themselves for the future further than they have already done. On the contrary, he desires that y[85]ou labour incessantly, and during the whole time you are in that country, to consolidate, concentrate, and form them into towns and villages, that they may be in a better position to defend themselves successfully." In acknowledging this despatch, far from apologizing for what he had done, Frontenac told the minister that the very best results had flowed from it. More Indians had come to Montreal than ever before, eight hundred having been seen at one time; Iroquois, Algonquins, and Hurons were mixing with one another in the most friendly manner; the Jesuit missionaries among the Iroquois found their position greatly improved, and were never tired of saying so; and, finally, he had obtained the Indian children he had asked for, eight in number, who were being educated in the French fashion, and who would be a perpetual guarantee of the peaceful behaviour of the tribes to which they belonged. At the same time he says, that if the minister absolutely disapproves of the fort, he will go next year and pull it down with as much alacrity as he had put it up. This the minister did not insist on. In fact he was not long in coming round to Frontenac's view that considering all the circumstances of the case the fort was a necessity. One point of interest connected with its establishment, upon which Frontenac has left us in ignorance, is whom he appointed as its first commandant. A contemporary writer [12] tells us it was La Salle, and the statement is not impr[86]obable. It was La Salle, as we have seen, whom the governor sent to the Iroquois to invite them to the conference, and as he had acquitted himself of that mission in the most successful manner, it seems natural that he should have been the first chosen to command a post, the principal object of which was to serve as a convenient meeting-place for Iroquois and French. A temporary concession of the fort was made a year later to two Montreal merchants, Bazire and Lebert, but it passed again, in the following year, into the hands of La Salle, who had meantime gone to France and laid before the court certain larger schemes for which Fort Frontenac was to serve as a base, and which he obtained the king's authority to carry into effect.

CHAPTER IV

THE COMMENCEMENT OF TROUBLES

It is difficult in the present advanced condition of all the arts and sciences which converge on the perfecting of our means of transport and communication to form an adequate idea of the toils, inconveniences, and perils encountered by those who in the seventeenth century attempted the task of colonizing this continent. To say nothing of the difficulties of land travel, the colonist, by the mere fact of crossing the ocean, placed a barrier of two or three months of perilous navigation between himself and the land that had been his home. To the dangers of the sea were added the yet more serious danger of infection on ill-ventilated and pest-breeding vessels. A ship coming to the St. Lawrence could in those days make but one trip to and fro in the year. It is easy to see, therefore, in how critical a position a colony would be that depended in any large measure on supplies brought from the other side. The wreck or capture of one or two vessels might bring it to the verge of starvation. Success in agriculture, again, can only be looked for where there is peaceable and secure possession of the land. If all the results of laborious tillage are liable to be carried off or destroyed at any moment by marauding foes, there is little encouragement to engage in that kind of industry. The populati[88]on will, by preference, turn to the search for metals, or seek to trade in articles easily marketed. Thus it was that, in the early days, the Canadian settlers gave themselves up almost wholly to hunting and fur-trading. Later, when the French government began to interest itself directly in the settlement of the country, strong efforts were made to induce the colonists to apply themselves to agriculture. Lands were conceded on condition that they should be cleared and cultivated within a specified time, failing which, they should revert to the Crown. The same condition applied to any portion of a grant remaining unimproved after the stipulated period. Under these inducements agriculture began to make a little headway, particularly, as we have seen, after the lesson given to the Iroquois by Tracy.

Still, there was too much hunting and too much trading with the Indians in the woods, as distinguished from legitimate trading in the settlements. Mention has already been made of the coureurs de bois. These were men who, instead of awaiting the arrival of the Indians at the posts of Montreal, Three Rivers, or Quebec, went out to meet them, in order that they might get the pick of the skins they possessed, and perhaps also get the better of them in a trade by first making them drunk. Two classes of coureurs de bois have been distinguished: on the one hand, the men who merely traded in the woods in the way described, and, on the other, those who attached themselves to different Indian[89] bands, and lived the common life of their savage companions. This reversion to savagery had a great fascination for many of the Canadian youths; and, as it led to great moral disorder, the clergy were quite as much opposed to it as the civil governors. As a convert is generally more zealous than one born in the faith, so these converts from civilization to barbarism seemed bent on outdoing the original sons of the forest in all that was wild and unseemly. Like their bronzed associates they would sometimes spurn clothing altogether, even when visiting settlements, and would make both day and night hideous with their carousing and yelling.[13]

Frontenac had received from the king strict instructions to repress the coureurs de bois by all means in his power. The law against them was severe, for the punishment was death. One of the first things Frontenac learnt on arriving in the[90] colony was that Montreal was the headquarters of these lawless men, and that not only did the local governor, Perrot, make no effort to reduce them to order, but that he was commonly understood to be a sharer in their illicit gains. It was further stated that he had an establishment of his own on an island, which still bears his name, at the confluence of the Ottawa and St. Lawrence, where his agents regularly intercepted the Indians on the way to Montreal, and took the cream of the trade. The king's instructions, it was well known, forbade any trading on the part of officials; but Perrot, whose family, as already mentioned, was influential, and whose wife was a niece of the late Intendant Talon, did not think that such a regulation was made for him. In passing through Montreal at the time of his expedition to Cataraqui, Frontenac had requested Perrot to see that the king's instructions respecting the coureurs de bois were obeyed. The latter promised compliance, but the promise was not redeemed. Frontenac at first thought he could get round the difficulty by appointing M. de Chambly as local governor for the district surrounding the Island of Montreal—Perrot's jurisdiction being limited strictly to the island—and thus establishing a kind of cordon by which the comings and goings of the coureurs de bois might be controlled. This arrangement was never put into operation, for the reason that, just about the same time, M. de Chambly received from the king the appointment of governor of Acadia. Perrot,[91] however, accompanied him as far as Quebec, and this gave Frontenac the opportunity of placing under the eyes of the Montreal governor the orders he had received from the court, and urging him to co-operate in giving them effect. Again Perrot promised to do his duty in the matter, but with what degree of sincerity events quickly showed. He had hardly returned to Montreal when the local judge, Ailleboust, who had received personal instructions from Frontenac in regard to carrying out the law, tried to effect the arrest of two offenders who were lodging in the house of one Carion, an officer. Carion refused to permit the arrest, and was upheld therein by Perrot, whereupon the judge took the only course open to him, namely, to notify the governor-general. It was now mid-winter; but, without a moment's hesitation, Frontenac deputed one Bizard, a lieutenant of his guard, to go to Montreal with three men, effect the arrest of Carion, and bring him to Quebec. He gave Bizard at the same time a letter to Perrot, but instructed him not to deliver it till he had first made sure of his prisoner. The lieutenant carried out his instructions, so far as the arrest of Carion was concerned; but, before he could leave Montreal, Perrot pounced down upon him and made him prisoner in turn, asking him how he dared to make an arrest in the limits of the government of Montreal without first notifying him. The scene was witnessed by two prominent residents of Montreal, Lebert, the[92] merchant, and La Salle, of whom we have already heard; and a report of the matter, attested by them, was despatched to Quebec. The choleric Perrot, hearing of this piece of officiousness, as he regarded it, put Lebert also into prison. La Salle, thinking the same treatment might be meted out to him, lost no time in taking the road to Quebec.

The rage of Frontenac at this open defiance of his authority may be imagined. Was it for this that he had come to Canada, to be flouted and set at nought by a subordinate officer? The worst of it was that there was no immediate remedy. The only thing to do at the moment was to summon the culprit to appear before the Sovereign Council at Quebec. But would he come? If he refused, Frontenac had no force to compel him. The force was all on the other side; the governor-general had but his body guard, whereas Montreal was full of men accustomed to Indian warfare, who would probably obey Perrot's orders, especially as there was a standing jealousy between Montreal and Quebec. At this point in his reflections, the count bethought him of writing a letter to the Abbé de Fénelon, Sulpician, of Montreal, who had accompanied him to Cataraqui, and with whom he was on very friendly terms, asking him to represent to Perrot what a serious thing it would be if he aggravated his former misconduct by refusing to go to Quebec. Rightly or wrongly, M. de Fénelon understood this letter as signifyi[93]ng that the governor, while desirous of vindicating his authority, was prepared to compromise the difficulty to some extent, and consequently gave Perrot to understand that, if he would obey the order to go to Quebec, the matter would in all probability be amicably adjusted. He offered to accompany him; and the two set out towards the close of January on a snowshoe tramp to Quebec over the frozen St. Lawrence. They arrived at the capital on the 29th of the month. Perrot at once sought an interview with the governor; but the discussion, far from taking a friendly turn, soon became extremely violent; and the result was that Perrot found himself in an hour's time placed under arrest.

The surprise and chagrin of the Montreal official may be imagined. As for the abbé, his indignation at what he regarded as a breach of faith knew no bounds.[14] Sharp words passed between him and the governor, and he returned to Montreal in a most agitated and rebellious state of mind. A few weeks later, having to preach on Easter Sunday in the parish church, he slipped into his sermon some observations which could only be construed as an attack on the king's representative. Speaking of those who are invested with temporal authority, he said—according to a summary of his discours[94]e given by the Abbé Faillon—that the magistrate who was animated by the spirit of the risen Christ would be strict, on the one hand, to punish offences against the service of his Prince, and prompt, on the other, to overlook those against his own dignity; would be full of respect for the ministers of the altar, and would not treat them harshly when, in the discharge of their duty, they strove to reconcile enemies and establish general good-will; would not surround himself with servile creatures to fill his ears with adulation, nor oppress under specious pretexts persons also invested with authority who happened to oppose his projects; further that such a ruler would use his power to maintain the authority of the monarch, and not to promote his own advantage, and would content himself with the salary allowed him without disturbing the commerce of the country or ill-using those who would not give him a share of their gains; finally, that he would not vex the people by unjustly exacting forced labour for ends of his own, nor falsely invoke the name of the monarch in support of such proceedings.

In every sentence there was a sting. The last words referred to the expedition to Lake Ontario, and the unpaid labour of the men by whom the fort at Cataraqui had been constructed. The preacher, in fact, may be said to have summed up the charges which certain Montrealers were at the time making against the governor, and which the Abbé Faillon, swayed perhaps in so[95]me measure by sympathy with a fellow Sulpician, does not hesitate to say were well founded.

The church on that Easter Sunday was filled to its utmost capacity, over six hundred persons being present. Amongst these was the watchful La Salle, who, not only took it all in himself, but by his gestures and movements called the attention of as many persons as possible to what was being said, and its obvious import. It was not only the friends of Frontenac, however, who recognized the drift of the sermon, for the curé of the parish, the Rev. M. Perrot, said to M. de Fénelon as he came down from the pulpit: "Really, sir, you have entered into details which have caused me a great deal of trouble." Other ecclesiastics were affected in the same manner, amongst them La Salle's own brother, an ecclesiastic of the Seminary, who went at once to the Superior, the excellent M. Dollier de Casson, to tell him what had happened. The latter, in turn, foreseeing trouble, sent to tell La Salle that the Seminary had no responsibility whatever for M. de Fénelon's sermon, as it had not been submitted beforehand for approval, and no one had the least notion what he intended to say. The same communication was made in the most earnest terms to M. de la Nauguère, who was temporarily filling the place of governor of Montreal by Frontenac's nomination, with a request that he would convey the assurance to the governor-general.[96]

The extraordinary thing is that the reverend gentleman who had caused all this trouble, when spoken to on the subject by the Superior, gave his word as a man of honour and a priest, that he had no intention whatever of alluding to the governor-general, adding that those who so applied his remarks were doing much dishonour to that high officer. The Abbé Faillon does not like to call M. de Fénelon's word in question, but he says that he manifestly lacked "one quality very important in a missionary, the prudence which directs the exercise of zeal, and keeps it within the bounds that circumstances require."

It was not only by this sermon that the Abbé Fénelon showed his lack of prudence. Madame Perrot had come out from France with her husband when he was appointed to the governorship of Montreal in 1669, and now that he was in trouble, and his case was likely to come before the king, she was anxious to get some testimonial from the people of Montreal in his favour. As to the kind of a governor Perrot had really been, we may safely rely on the judgment pronounced by the industrious author of the Histoire de la Colonie Française en Canada, who says [15]: "This governor contributed more than any one else to that fatal revolution which changed entirely the moral aspect of this colony [Montreal]. . . . The whole course of his conduct in Canada justifies us in thinking that when, in 1669, he decided to come here, it was in the hope of making a great fortune[97] through the influence of M. de Talon, whose niece, Madeleine Laguide, he had married." The abbé goes on to explain that the Seminary (as seigneurs of the Island of Montreal) would never have nominated Perrot had they known his true character, and would certainly not have retained him in office after his character became known, if they had been free to act in the matter. What stood in the way was that, through Talon's influence, his commission as governor had been confirmed by the king, and that he had thus, in a manner, been rendered independent of the Seminary authorities. "From that moment," the writer continues, "he considered himself free from all control in the matter of the traffic in drink which he was already carrying on with the savages to the great scandal of all the respectable inhabitants. . . . It is certain that he himself gave open protection to the coureurs de bois, not only in his own island through M. Bruey, his agent, but also throughout the whole extent of the Island of Montreal. . . . In order to have, without much expense, coureurs de bois under his orders, he allowed nearly all the soldiers in the island to desert and take to the woods, without either pursuing them, or notifying the governor-general of their desertion." It may be added that, when some of the most respectable inhabitants of Montreal ventured on a timid remonstrance respecting the irregularities that were taking place, he assailed them in the lowest and most ru[98]ffianly language, and put their principal spokesman, who at the time was the acting judge of Montreal, into prison.

This was the man, then, in whose interest, when Madame Perrot could not get any one else to do it, M. de Fénelon undertook to go round the Island of Montreal, and get the inhabitants to sign a petition. The petition, it is true, only stated that the signers had no complaints to make against M. Perrot; but its object was to throw dust in the eyes of the court, and it is impossible to think highly of the candour of the man—elder brother, though he was, of the great Archbishop of Cambrai—who was the chief agent in procuring it.

It is not surprising, in view of these proceedings, that M. de Fénelon received an order to repair to Quebec. Before summoning him, Frontenac had carried on a prolonged correspondence with the Seminary at Montreal. He first of all required them to banish Fénelon from their house as being a factious and rebellious person. To save his brethren trouble, Fénelon retired of his own accord, and took up parish work at Lachine. Frontenac then asked for signed declarations as to what had been said in the sermon. These the Sulpicians declined to give, saying they could not be called upon to testify against a brother. "Then send down a copy of the sermon," the governor said. The reply to this was that they had no copy of it. For form's sake they consented to ask the[99] vicar-general at Quebec, the highest ecclesiastical authority in the absence of the bishop, to request M. de Fénelon to furnish the original. The vicar-general did so, and the abbé promptly replied that he would do nothing of the kind; he did not acknowledge himself to be guilty of any misdemeanour, but, if he were, he could not be required to furnish evidence against himself.

These pourparlers consumed considerable time, as letters were not exchanged in those days with modern rapidity between Quebec and Montreal. Moreover, Frontenac took a slice out of the summer in order to pay a visit to Montreal at the height of the trading season, not impossibly with some thrifty design, though it is known that he attended to the king's business to the extent of capturing, through his officer M. de Verchères, no less than twelve coureurs de bois. It was not till some time in the month of August that M. de Fénelon appeared to answer for himself at Quebec.

To follow in detail the incidents of the abortive inquiry into Perrot's insubordination, and the equally unsatisfactory proceedings in the case of the refractory abbé, would be tedious and unprofitable. Two of the councillors, Tilly and Dupont, were appointed a commission to examine Perrot. The latter made no objection at first to answering their questions, but a few days later he took it into his head to protest the competency of the council to try the charges against him. The governor, he said, was his personal enemy, [100]and the members of the council, holding office during his good pleasure, could only be considered as his creatures. The council disregarded the protest, and continued the inquiry; but on each subsequent occasion Perrot refused to answer any question till his protest had been duly entered in the minutes. One of his answers almost betrays a sense of humour. He was asked why he had not arrested the coureurs de bois who made his private island their headquarters. "Because," he said, "I had no jurisdiction; my government does not extend beyond the Island of Montreal." In other words, he had chosen a spot for his illegal operations where, in his private capacity, he could, so to speak, snap his lingers in his own face in his official capacity. Possibly it was an attempt on Frontenac's part to repay humour with humour, when he caused one of these very coureurs de bois, a man whom Perrot probably knew very well, to be hanged directly in front of his prison window.

During the summer a despatch was received from the minister for the colonies which somewhat disquieted Frontenac, and doubtless had some effect also on the minds of the councillors. In order to lay an account of Perrot's rebellious conduct at the earliest possible moment before the king, Frontenac had taken the unusual course of sending a letter by way of Boston in February, hoping that it might reach the minister's hands in time to be answered by the ship leaving in the spring or early summer. Colbert wrote under[101] date the 17th May 1674, evidently without having received the letter, for he terminated his despatch with these words: "His Majesty instructs me to recommend to you particularly the person and interests of M. Perrot, governor of Montreal, and nephew of M. Talon, his principal valet de chambre." Nothing could well have been more awkward, considering that the person so warmly recommended was at that moment, and had been for months, in durance vile, as a rebel against the governor's authority, and indirectly against his Majesty's.

The Abbé Fénelon, when he appeared before the council, was more defiant by far than Perrot. He was told to stand up. He said, No, he would sit down, as he was not a criminal; and, if he were, he could only be tried by an ecclesiastical court. He was asked to remove his hat; to which he replied by jamming it harder on his head, saying that ecclesiastics had a right to keep their heads covered. In the end the council began to fear that the governor was getting them into trouble; and they consequently determined, in both cases, that they would confine themselves to taking evidence, and leave the court to pronounce judgment. This conclusion was not pleasing to Frontenac, who wished to have a distinct decision of the council in his favour. He, too, was "weakening," however, as we may see by his letter to the minister, dated 14th November 1674, and despatched by the same vessel by which the[102] governor of Montreal—released at last after ten months' confinement—and the fiery abbé sailed for France. "I am sending," he says, "M. Perrot and M. de Fénelon to France, in order that you may judge their conduct. For myself, if I have failed in any point of duty, I am ready to submit to his Majesty's corrections. A governor in this country would be much to be pitied if he were not sustained, seeing there is no one here on whom he can depend; and should he commit any fault he might assuredly be excused, seeing that all kinds of nets are spread for him, and that, after avoiding a hundred, he is liable to be caught in the end. So, My Lord, I hope that, should I have had the misfortune to take any false step, his Majesty will be kind enough to sympathize with me, and to believe that the error was due to an excess of zeal for his service, and not to any other motive."

The tone of this communication, it must be confessed, is not quite what one would expect from a man of Frontenac's character and antecedents. It shows what influence at court counted for in that day. The letter was accompanied by a docket of enormous proportions containing the charges against Perrot and the abbé, and all the evidence taken in the course of the prolonged investigation at Quebec. He received replies both from the king and the minister. In regard to Perrot the king wrote: "I have seen and examined all you have sent me concerning M. Perrot; and,[103] after having seen all that he has put forward in his defence, I have condemned his action in imprisoning the officer you sent to Montreal. To punish him I have sent him for some time to the Bastille, in order that this discipline may not only render him more circumspect for the future, but may serve as an example to others. But, in order that you may thoroughly understand my views, I must tell you that, except in a case of absolute necessity, you should not execute any order within the sphere of a local government without having first notified the governor of the locality. The punishment of ten months' imprisonment you inflicted on him seems to me sufficient; and that is why I am sending him to the Bastille for a short term only, in order to vindicate in a public manner my violated authority." His Majesty added that he was sending Perrot back to his government, but that he would instruct him to call on the governor-general at Quebec and apologize for all his past offences; after which Frontenac was to dismiss all resentment, and treat him with the consideration due to his office.

As regards Fénelon, he was not allowed to return to Canada; and he was censured by the Superior of his order for having busied himself with things with which he had no concern. At the same time Frontenac was informed that he was wrong in instituting a criminal process against that ecclesiastic, as well as in calling upon his brethren of the Seminary to give evidence against[104] him. The king made it clear that he thought Frontenac had been unduly harsh and autocratic in his proceedings generally. It would have been well for that dignitary if he could have taken the admonition more deeply to heart.

CHAPTER V

DIVIDED POWER

If the king read carefully, as he says he did, the cruel mass of correspondence which Frontenac forwarded to him in connection with the Perrot-Fénelon imbroglio, he could hardly have failed to come to the conclusion that something was amiss in the state of Canada. Frontenac had begged, somewhat piteously, that he might be "sustained," and sustained he was in a manner, as we have just seen; but the king and the minister had their own opinion on the subject, which they only partly expressed in words, the rest they translated into action. Frontenac, from the date of his arrival in Canada, had been the only visible source of authority. Laval was in France, looking after the long delayed bull which was to raise him from the doubtful rank of a bishop in partibus to the full legal status of bishop of Quebec. Talon, too, had left the country a few weeks after the governor's arrival, and no one had been sent to replace him. The old warrior had, therefore, had things entirely his own way, and his own way had not proved to be the way of peace. To place matters on a better footing, the court decided on two measures: to reorganize the Sovereign Council, and to revive the office of intendant. The council, it will be remembered, consisted of four members[106] and an attorney-general, nominated by the governor and the bishop jointly, and holding office during their good pleasure. Henceforth it was to consist of seven members, each holding office by direct commission from the king. The main object of the change was to enable it to act with more independence in the performance of its proper functions, which were essentially of a judicial character. A secondary effect, probably neither foreseen nor intended, was to augment the influence of the bishop, at the expense of that of the governor, through the operation of the natural law which inclines men to side rather with permanent than with transient forces. Frontenac was jealous from the first of the increased prestige of the council, and soon became disagreeably aware of the advantage it afforded to his ecclesiastical rival.

The council, as reconstituted, consisted of the four old members, Louis Rouer de Villeray, who received the designation of first councillor, Le Gardeur de Tilly, Mathieu Damours, and Nicolas Dupont, with three new ones, Réné Charlier de Lotbinière, Jean Baptiste de Peyras, and Charles Denis de Vitre. The attorney-general, Denis Joseph Ruette d'Auteuil, a man described by Frontenac a couple of years later as "very ignorant, and having such imperfect sight that he can neither read nor write," was by name reappointed to his office, with one Gilles Rageot as clerk. All these, holding their ap[107]pointments directly from the king, were secure from removal by any lesser authority. The utmost the governor could do would be to suspend one or more of them for grave misconduct, subject to confirmation of his action by the sovereign. Another change in the judiciary of the colony was made a couple of years later. The king had, in the year 1674, abolished a court called the Prévôté (Provost's Court) of Quebec, which had been established by the West India Company for the purpose of exercising a kind of police jurisdiction, and making preliminary inquiries in certain cases. The royal idea at the time had been that it would be simpler to intrust the whole administration of justice to one court, the Sovereign Council. The enlargement and strengthening of the council, however, and the appearance upon the scene of an intendant whose views did not always harmonize, to speak very moderately, with those of the governor, somewhat altered the situation. There was a balance of powers; but justice itself would sometimes hang in the balance longer than was desirable. In order, therefore, to get as many cases as possible disposed of without troubling that important tribunal, his Majesty, in the month of May 1677, determined to re-establish the Prévôté, with power to judge, as a court of first instance, all cases civil and criminal, subject to appeal to the Sovereign Council. The court was to consist of a lieutenant-general as judge, a public prosecutor and a clerk. To these was added, by[108] an edict of the same month, a special officer having the title of prévôt, with judicial functions in criminal cases only. It probably was not foreseen that the governor might play off the Prévôté against the Sovereign Council. That, however, is what happened, and as the lower court had at its service six "archers" or constables, it was able, when acting in concert with the governor, to accomplish an occasional tour de force.

The new intendant, M. Jacques Duchesneau, arrived at Quebec in the month of September 1675 by the same vessel which bore back Laval, in all the glory and power of full episcopal authority, to a flock from which he had been absent three long years. His letter of instructions mentions the fact that he had filled a somewhat similar office at Tours in France, and had acquitted himself therein to the great satisfaction of his Majesty. Research has been made without success to find out what the office was; we have only, therefore, to take his Majesty's word for it. Whatever M. Duchesneau's previous history may have been, he seems to have come to Canada with the determination to keep a very watchful, and not too benevolent, eye on the proceedings of his official superior, the governor. There was the strongest possible contrast between the characters of the two men. Frontenac was haughty, headstrong, and aggressive; Duchesneau, cautious, crafty, and persistent. When two such men come into conflict, it is not the cool calculator w[109]ho suffers most, however he may whine (as Duchesneau did) at the high-handed proceedings of the other. Under the best of circumstances a governor and an intendant were not likely to work very harmoniously together. Courcelles and Talon did not, though both were well-meaning men. M. Lorin hints that Colbert sent out Duchesneau to act as a spy upon Frontenac.[16] The supposition seems to be a needless one. Duchesneau was sent out as Talon had been before him, to see that the intentions of the court in the government of the country were duly carried into effect, and in particular that the considerable sums of money which the king appropriated to the uses of the colony were rightly expended. It is possible that, had Frontenac acted with more judgment and moderation during the first two years of his administration, the appointment of an intendant would not have been considered necessary; but, in any case, the court in giving him a colleague, and thus relieving him of part of his responsibilities, was simply applying to Canada a system of administration long established in France, where, as a rule, every province had its intendant as well as its governor.

Duchesneau's instructions were certainly very clear as to the attitude he was to maintain towards the governor. He was enjoined "to be careful to live with Comte de Frontenac in relations of great deference, not only on account of[110] the honour he had of representing the king's person, but also on account of his personal merit, and not to do anything in the whole range of his duties without his consent and participation." To secure concordant conduct on the governor's part, he was instructed in a despatch of even date to allow the intendant to act "with entire liberty in everything relating to justice, police, and finance, without meddling at all in these matters, except when they are discussed in the Sovereign Council." It is significant that in this same letter a hint is dropped about trading: not only was Frontenac not to trade himself, or allow trading on his behalf, but he was not to permit any one belonging to his household to trade. It thus appears that, before Duchesneau had even arrived in the country, the court had had its suspicions aroused as to the course the king's personal representative might be tempted to pursue in this matter. We may be certain that anything Perrot and Fénelon knew on the subject would be poured into the minister's ear, nor were they the only ones whose representations regarding the governor would not be of a friendly character. Villeray, the senior member of the Sovereign Council and the Abbé d'Urfé, a relative of Fénelon's, were in France at the same time. The former had been denounced by Frontenac in one of his earliest despatches as a busybody and a close ally of the Jesuit order; while the latter had been very haughtily treated by him in connection with the Fénelon matter,[111] and had left Canada in high indignation by the same vessel which bore Fénelon and Perrot. It happened that, just about this time, Urfé's cousin, a Mademoiselle d'Allegre, was being contracted in marriage to Colbert's son and destined successor in office, the Marquis de Seignelay, so that altogether the influences which were operating against Frontenac at this juncture were of a somewhat formidable character. That his position should have been so little affected speaks well for his claim to personal consideration. It speaks well also for the spirit of equity which actuated the king in his relations with his officers.

A meeting of the reorganized Sovereign Council was held at Quebec on the 16th September 1675. It is this meeting which fixes for us as nearly as it can be done the date of the arrival of the bishop and intendant, for the minutes show that the former was present, and that part of the business transacted was the registration of the commission of the latter. M. de Laval lost no time in making his influence felt. The Abbé Fénelon, when arraigned before the Sovereign Council the year before, had demanded to be tried by an ecclesiastical tribunal, and reply had been made that there was no such tribunal in Canada. The bishop's first act was to supply this lack by establishing a court consisting of his two grand-vicars, Bernières and Dudouyt, and a clerk or registrar. The new court soon found work to do. A man was cited before it, upon information of t[112]he curé of Montreal, for having failed to perform his Easter duties. He appealed to the Sovereign Council, which at first showed a disposition to assume jurisdiction in the case, but in the end left it in the hands of the ecclesiastics. The bishop wished it to be understood that Canada was not France. Some encroachments of the civil on the spiritual power had, he said, taken place in that country, but "these were things to be guarded against in a country in which a Church is in course of establishment." Manifestly Laval understood the word "Church" in a very absolute sense, and meant to enforce his understanding of it if possible.

During his absence from the country the clergy had got into the way, either of their own accord, or at Frontenac's suggestion, of paying the governor certain honours in church which the bishop considered—correctly it appears—unsanctioned by precedent or usage. He ordered that they should be discontinued. A wrangle with the governor ensued, and the matter had to be referred to the king, who must sometimes have wondered whether the colonial game was worth the candles consumed in reading the colonial despatches; for his Majesty, no less than his minister, had often to prolong the work far into the night. The patient monarch replied that the governor had been claiming more than was his due, and more than was accorded to men of his rank in the provinces of the kingdom; he must, therefore, make[113] up his little difference with the bishop of Quebec, by gracefully moderating his pretensions. Three years later there were still some differences of the same nature pending, for we find the king sending directions to the bishop to pay the same honours to the governor of Canada as were paid to the governor of Picardy in the cathedral of Amiens. Frontenac, on his part, was not to claim more.

The document which throws most light on Frontenac's attitude towards the dominant ecclesiastical powers—the bishop and the Jesuits—and on his estimate of their work and general policy, is a letter which he wrote to Colbert in 1677, and which must have been of a confidential nature.[17] "Nearly all the disorders existing in New France," he therein declares, "have their origin in the ambition of the ecclesiastics, who wish to add to their spiritual authority an absolute power over temporal matters." Their aim from the first, he goes on to say, was to amass wealth as a means of influence; and in this they have been extraordinarily successful. They have had subsidies from the king and charitable donations from individuals in France; they have obtained concessions of large tracts of the best and most valuable lands in the country; finally, in spite of the king's prohibitions, they have been driving an active and most profitable trade. In support of the latter statement he cites the names of a number of persons[114] who have given him positive and detailed evidence on the point. He estimates the bishop's revenue from all sources at not less than forty thousand livres; and refers to the fact that he is erecting vast and superb buildings at Quebec at a cost of four hundred thousand livres, although he and his ecclesiastics are already lodged much better than the governor-general. He complains of the espionage they exercise through the country and in his own household; and says there would be no end to the story if he were to attempt to tell all that they have done to augment their influence through the confessional and by threats of excommunication. Instances are given of what the writer claims to have been their undue severity towards persons who had incurred their censure. If the bishop chose, he could do what he has always hitherto refused to do: provide the country with a reasonable number of parish priests having fixed positions. He has ample means for the purpose if he would employ them in a less ambitious manner; his main objection to doing so is that the erection of parishes served by priests not removable at pleasure would diminish his power and throw patronage into the hands of the king. So far the governor. It is probable that his impeachment of his ecclesiastical rivals did not fall on altogether unsympathetic ears; but Colbert, as a statesman, recognized power wherever it existed; and his only advice to the civil administrators was to hold their own as well as they could. In a despatch, written som[115]e years before, he had told Courcelles that be looked forward to the time when, with an increase of population, things would get into better shape, and the secular power assume its just preponderance.

Duchesneau himself, shortly after his arrival in the country, had a passing difficulty with the bishop, arising out of an idea he entertained, that, as intendant, he ought to rank next to the governor; and this wretched matter had also to be referred to the court, which promptly decided in the bishop's favour. From that time forward there was perfect harmony between the two, so much so that, on more than one occasion, the intendant drew down upon himself the censure of the court for what was regarded as his undue subservience to the bishop's views. One of the first matters regarding which he and the bishop joined forces was the policy of the governor in connection with the issue of hunting and trading licences. The law under which Frontenac had previously taken severe measures against the coureurs de bois was still in force; but the governor had felt himself justified in issuing a limited number of permits to responsible persons, authorizing them to carry goods to the Indians and trade in the Indian settlements. These persons became, in a certain sense, coureurs de bois; but as they went out by authority, and could be held to the terms of their licences, and as, moreover, they could be used for the purpose of obtaining information as to the movements and disposition of the native[116] tribes, the governor thought, or professed to think, that he was acting for the best in relaxing to this extent the strict letter of the law. The bishop, on the other hand, objected to the system; in the first place, because the persons licensed carried liquor as part of their stock-in-trade, and, in the second, because it threw impediments in the way of the effective ecclesiastical control of the population. It was agreed that he and the intendant should both write to the minister, the one dwelling on the evils of the liquor traffic with the Indians, and the other on the infringement of the law. Duchesneau, we have seen, had been warned in his instructions to keep in close touch with the governor in all that he did; but he had not been three months in the country before, in a matter of the first importance, and one affecting the governor's own actions, he sent home recommendations of which his superior officer knew nothing.

The answer came back the following year. It was dated 15th April 1676, but seems only to have reached Quebec in September. The governor, by royal edict, was forbidden to issue permits under any pretext whatsoever. The punishment of contumacious coureurs de bois was placed in the hands of the intendant exclusively, as it was he alone—such was the reason given—who had official knowledge of the conditions under which the fur trade was being farmed out. Quebec, Montreal, and Three Rivers were at the same time indicated as the only places where the[117] trade with the Indians might lawfully be carried on.

Frontenac was not at Quebec when this document arrived; he was at Fort Frontenac (Cataraqui), which was now in the hands of his friend La Salle under a concession from the king. Doubtless he was enjoying, not only his temporary freedom from the worries and vexations of office, but also the congenial society of a man, who, though much his junior, had, in common with himself, a large knowledge of the world, a keen and aspiring spirit, and a strong love of adventure. At Quebec the councillors were somewhat at a loss what to do in the matter of the despatch. Some were indisposed to register, in the absence of the governor, an edict which so directly condemned the policy he was pursuing. Duchesneau, however, did not approve of delay, and on the 5th of October the document was registered, and thus became the law of the land. When Frontenac returned to Quebec and found what had been done—that one of the first acts of the intendant had been to hand him over to the censure of the court, and that its censure had practically been pronounced—he was indignant beyond measure. He saw at a glance that, if the situation were not in some way retrieved, his authority and prestige in the colony he had been sent out to govern would be gravely compromised. The fall vessels were to leave in a week or two, so he sat down and wrote a despatch to Colbert which gave that able minister something to think about. The bishop,[118] dreading lest the governor's reasons—he probably knew that Frontenac wielded a vigorous pen—might lead to a countermanding of the instructions, thought it well to send an envoy of his own to France in the person of the Abbé Dudouyt. Frontenac meantime so far complied with the edict as to publish an order requiring all coureurs de bois, licensed and unlicensed, to return at once to the settlements; though, according to Duchesneau, he nullified this to a great extent by issuing a number of hunting permits which were only trading permits in disguise.

So far as the sale of liquor to the Indians was in question, it is impossible not to approve, theoretically at least, the stand taken by the bishop. He would have suppressed it absolutely, if he had had the power. The thing, however, was practically impossible. We see the effect probably of Frontenac's representations on the subject in a despatch which the intendant received dated in the spring of 1677. He is told that he had yielded too easily to the extreme views of the bishop in regard to this matter. The bishop had spoken of the fearful effects caused by drink amongst the Indians, who maimed and murdered one another, and committed all kinds of abominations, when under its influence. Colbert is not content with such a general statement; he wants particulars; and instructs Duchesneau to find out how many such crimes can be proved to have been committed since he (the intendant) had arrived in Can[119]ada. Here was a very suitable piece of work cut out for M. Jacques Duchesneau, who was nothing if not a man of facts and figures; but there is nothing to show that he ever prepared the desired statement. The minister goes on to say: "The general policy of the state is necessarily opposed to the views of a bishop who, in order to prevent the abuse made by a few individuals of a thing good in itself, is prepared to abolish entirely the trade in an article of consumption which serves greatly to promote commerce, and to bring the savages into contact with orthodox Christians like the French. We should run the risk, if we yielded to his opinion, not only of losing this commerce, but of forcing the savages to do business with the English and Dutch, who are heretics; and it would thus become impossible for us to keep them favourably disposed towards the one pure and true religion." Colbert, it will be seen, had that judicious blending of the missionary with the commercial spirit which has been so efficacious in our own day in promoting great colonial enterprises. One or two other allusions to the bishop may be quoted: "It is easy to see that, though the bishop is a very good man, and most faithful in the performance of his duty, he nevertheless is aiming at a degree of power which goes far beyond what is exercised by bishops in any other part of Christendom, and particularly in France." Then, with reference to his attendance at meetings of the Sovereign Council: "You ought to try and put[120] him out of love with going there; but in doing so you must act with the greatest prudence and secrecy, and take care that no person whatsoever knows what I am writing to you on this point."

The minister, it is evident, had hard work to keep his representatives in Canada to their respective spheres of duty. He opens his despatch to Duchesneau by begging him to mind his own business, and not in future recommend any military appointments, as he had done in a late communication. He wrote to Frontenac a few days later, cautioning him to keep aloof from questions of justice, police, and finance, observing that men in military command "are too apt to let flatterers persuade them that they ought to take cognizance of everything and look after everything." Touching on the drink question, he said that "if the disorders complained of are limited in number, and if the Indians are only a little more subject to getting intoxicated than the Germans for example, or, among the French, the Bretons," there was no need for drastic prohibitive measures; the irregularities happening from time to time could be dealt with by the courts. He was not to take ground openly against the bishop; but he was to see that the latter did not go beyond his proper prerogative "in a matter that was purely one of police." The Abbé Dudouyt had evidently not succeeded in winning over the minister to the bishop's extreme views. He must, however, have had more success with the king, for on the 12t[121]h May 1678 a royal edict was issued, dealing in a very uncompromising fashion with the coureur de bois question as well as with that of the liquor traffic. As regards the former, the previous prohibition, which, it was complained, had been rendered nugatory by the system of special permits, was renewed in all its force. The liquor traffic was equally condemned: no liquor was to be sold to the Indians under any circumstances. Colbert thereupon presented a memoir to his Majesty setting forth his reasons for considering a prohibition of the liquor traffic inexpedient, these being much the same as he had embodied in his despatch to Duchesneau of the preceding year. The result was that the king, without recalling his edict, ordered that the whole matter should be fully discussed in a meeting of the principal inhabitants of Canada, including the administrators and magistrates, and that a report of the proceedings should be sent to him for his information and further consideration.

Thus was the question referred back to Canada, and an appeal actually made, after a fashion, to public opinion. The meeting ordered by the king was held at Quebec on the 26th October. The persons composing it were chosen by Frontenac and Duchesneau jointly, and were beyond doubt as influential men as could be found in the country—nineteen in all, exclusive of those who attended in an official capacity. The sense of the meeting was overwhelmingly against the suppression[122] of the traffic, and against the stand taken by the bishop in making a "reserved case" of the selling of liquor to the Indians, or, in other words, excluding from the sacraments all who were guilty of that act. Two of the delegates, the seigneurs of Berthier and Sorel, said that the prohibition which was then nominally, and to a considerable degree practically, in force worked injury, not only to trade, but to the Indians themselves. They could get all the liquor they wanted from the Dutch of Orange (Albany); and the Dutch rum was not nearly so good as the French brandy. The last time the Indians came to trade at Cataraqui, they had forty barrels of Dutch spirits with them, having laid in a supply owing to their apprehension that they might not be able to obtain any from the French. But of course they would cease coming to Cataraqui or trading with the French at all, if they could not get liquor. They denied that the drinking of brandy prevented the Indians from becoming Christians. Did not the Christian Indians in the missions near Montreal drink brandy? Yet they remained docile to their teachers, and were not often seen drunk—a statement which certainly might have been challenged. Others urged the argument with which we are already familiar that, if the Indians had to get their liquor from the Dutch and English, they would either imbibe heresy at the same time, or be left in their heathenism. Others again said that the disorders caused by drink amongst the savages had been[123] greatly exaggerated, and moreover things of the same nature occurred among Indians who made no use of spirituous liquors. The "reserved case" was doing no good; on the contrary it was troubling consciences, and had possibly already caused the damnation of some inhabitants. Drunkenness, another delegate remarked, was not confined to the Indians. In the most civilized countries, where all were Christians, it was a common vice; yet no one thought of making a "reserved case" for the liquor sellers. One speaker went so far as to say that the Indians would never become Christians unless they were allowed the same liberties as the French, and that the clandestine sale of liquor promoted immoderate drinking. Robert Cavelier de la Salle was strongly in favour of the trade being left open. It was for laymen, he said, to decide what was good or bad in relation to commerce, and not for ecclesiastics. There had been but little disorder, upon the whole, amongst the savages as the result of drink. He thought they were less given to intoxication than the French, and much less than the English of New York. Two delegates were entirely opposed to the trade as being hurtful to religion, and the source of moral disorders. Two others thought it should be restricted to the settlements, and that no liquor should be sold in the woods.[18]

How far the opinions of those who favoured the traffic were disinterested may be open to question. Traders are apt to consider exclusively the immediate interests of trade; and the love of gain is often sufficient to stifle the instincts of humanity. The church looked upon the Indians as its wards; but the majority of the settlers, it is to be feared, thought only of exploiting, if not of actually plundering, them. It is difficult to read the little treatise composed about twenty-five years after these events, under the title of the History of Brandy in Canada, without feeling persuaded that there was more ground for the position taken by the clergy than the seigneurs and others who assembled at Quebec were willing to admit. From what the anonymous writer, evidently a missionary in close touch with the facts, says, it is clear that brandy was often made an instrument for the robbery of the unhappy Indian. We are told of one man at Three Rivers who, having made an Indian drunk, insisted next day that the score for the brandy the poor savage had taken amounted to thirty moose skins. The author of the treatise is convinced that the horrible massacre at Lachine, of which we shall have to speak in a later chapter, was a direct manifestation of the anger of God at the drink traffic, of which that place in particular was the headquarters. If so, the warning unfortunately was not taken to heart, for the writer himself tells us that the traffic was resumed and prosecuted as vigorously as ever as soon as the village[125] was rebuilt.

When Laval, who had just laid the corner-stone of his seminary at Quebec, saw the way things were going, he decided to start for France himself, to see what he could effect for the cause he had so deeply at heart by personal representations. The decision of the court, however, was what might have been expected under the circumstances. Two edicts were issued in the following year, one dated the 25th April 1679, confirming the regulations previously laid down respecting the coureurs de bois, but allowing the governor to grant hunting permits good from the 15th January to the 15th April of each year; and the other, dated 24th May, expressly prohibiting the holders of such permits from carrying liquor to the Indians, under pain of a fine of one hundred francs for the first offence, three hundred for the second, and corporal punishment for the third. The French of the settlements on the other hand were left free to sell liquor to the Indians resorting thither. The bishop was at the same time requested to make the "reserved case" apply only to those selling under illegal conditions, which, with no little reluctance, he consented to do.

It is to be noted that the second edict contains a clause expressly entrusting its enforcement to "Sieur, Comte de Frontenac, governor and lieutenant-general for his Majesty in the said country," and not as previously to the intendant. Frontenac thus had it in his power, M. Lorin observes, "to[126] free himself in practice from the time limits imposed, or even tacitly to authorize the hunters to carry a few goods to the Indians." This writer, who is an ardent admirer of Frontenac, seems to regard it as a thing quite to be expected that the king's representative should seize the opportunity to violate the king's regulations. The motive, however, which he assigns for such probable disobedience is a very high one: the governor was anxious to keep in touch, through the traders, with the outlying Indian tribes, in order that he might watch the course of their trade, study their dispositions, and thus be enabled to take timely measures to maintain them in right relations with the French colony. Were there ground for assurance that this was his only, or even his greatly predominant, motive, we might well join with M. Lorin in considering such far-sighted devotion to the king's interests as more than a set-off to a technical irregularity. But can we? The question is one in regard to which the documents before us, consisting mainly of the correspondence of Frontenac and Duchesneau with the court, render it difficult to arrive at a positive conclusion. The matter will be discussed in the following chapter; meanwhile let us briefly note the further development of the coureur de bois question to the end of Frontenac's first administration.

It does not appear that the ordinance of April 1679 improved the situation in the least. The law continued to be violated, as Duchesneau affirms,[127] with the connivance of the governor, and, as Frontenac says, with the active assistance (in favour of his special friends) of the intendant. In the month of November 1680 Duchesneau writes to the minister, observing that the only thing to do is to try and find the best means to induce these men to return "without prejudice to the absolute submission they owe to the king's will." He proceeds to hint at something like a conditional amnesty, lenient treatment to be promised to all those who, returning home promptly on the publication of the king's proclamation, should "make a sincere and frank declaration in court of the time they have been absent, for what persons they were trading in the Indian country, who furnished them with goods, how many skins they procured, and how they disposed of them." Evidently M. Jacques Duchesneau was in pursuit of information; and there can be little doubt with what intent. What Frontenac wrote on the subject is not on record. It seems probable that he too suggested an amnesty; but we may doubt whether he recommended the condition proposed by his friend the intendant. The court in the month of May following granted an amnesty, the sole condition of which was that the persons concerned should return to their homes immediately on being notified to do so. This was not to imply any indulgence for the offence in future, as another edict was passed in the course of the same month, providing severer punishments than had previously been[128] prescribed—flogging and branding on a first conviction, and perpetual servitude in the galleys on a second. When these edicts reached Quebec it was noticed that to the council was given the duty, not only of registering, but of publishing and executing them. The governor, however, intervened, and, upon his promising to take the whole responsibility upon himself, the council agreed to leave the publication and execution in his hands. "Under this pretext," says M. Lorin, "Frontenac could send officers to all the posts of the upper country; and if he was anxious to do so, it was less to participate, despite the king's orders, in the fur trade, than to control the proceedings of the merchants and missionaries." The word "less" can hardly be said to imply unambiguous praise. Moreover who can say what motive was predominant?

Under the edict of 1679 the governor had the power of issuing an unlimited number of permits for hunting exclusively. The privilege had clearly been abused; and orders were now issued that in future twenty-five permits only should be granted each year, the holder of a permit to be entitled to take or send one canoe only with three men. In this way the amount of trade which could be done under a permit was limited. In all only twenty-five canoe loads of merchandise could be sent out annually. Moreover the intention in granting these permits was less to promote trade at a distance—an object the court never had at h[129]eart—than to reward certain supposedly meritorious individuals. It was a species of patronage which was placed in the governor's hands, and which he was expected to distribute in a judicious manner. If the holder of a permit did not wish to use it himself, he could sell it to some one else; and it not infrequently happened that a single trader would buy a number of permits, and send quite a little fleet of canoes up the river. The era of "trusts" was not as yet, but even here we can see the trust in germ.

CHAPTER VI

THE LIFE OF A COLONY

The great trouble in Canada was that it was an over-governed country. The whole population when Frontenac arrived was but little over six thousand souls, scattered over a territory stretching from Matane and Tadousac in the east, to the western limit of the Island of Montreal. What these people needed in the first place was freedom to seek their living in their own way, and secondly, an extremely simple form of government. Instead of this they were hampered in their trade, and made continually to feel their dependence on the central power; while, in the matter of political organization, they were placed under the precise system which prevailed in the provinces of the French kingdom. In the Sovereign Council they had the equivalent of a parliament in the French—by no means in the English—sense; that is to say, a body for registering, and so bestowing a final character of validity upon, the decrees of the sovereign, and for administering justice. The executive power was divided between governor and intendant with very doubtful results. Below the Sovereign Council, as a judicial body, was the court of the Prévôté. The one thing the people were not allowed to have was anything in the way of representative institutions. Colbert, perhaps by immediate royal direction, gave the keynote of[132] monarchical absolutism when he said, in words already quoted: "Let every man speak for himself; let no one presume to speak for all." Thus was the king in his strength and majesty placed over against the solitary protesting individual. Doubtless self-government in the full sense would not have been possible at the time, seeing that self-government implies, as its first condition, pecuniary independence, and the country was not in a position to provide all the money required for its civil and military expenditure. However, possible or impossible, the thing was not thought of, or to be thought of, at the time. The result of the elaborate organization actually established was that administrators and councillors, having far too little to do, fell to quarrelling with one another in the manner already seen and yet to be seen. The Canadian colony was not really peculiar in this respect. Any one who reads in Clément's great work the voluminous correspondence of Colbert will see that strife and jealousy was the rule throughout the whole colonial service. The same spirit, in fact, prevailed which was exhibited in the daily life of the court, where every one was desperately struggling for the sunshine of royal favour, and where, consequently, questions of precedence and etiquette were regarded as of surpassing importance. And now a most serious question of this nature was to blaze forth in Canada.

In various despatches from the court, Frontenac had been spoken of as "President of the Sovereign Council," though that office had never in any formal way been attached to the governorship. Shortly after Duchesneau's appointment as intendant, a royal ordinance was issued conferring the title in question upon him. In this there was no intention whatever to diminish the rank or prestige of the governor. The idea was rather to relieve him from the drudgery of presiding at meetings of the council, by giving to the latter a permanent working head in the person of the intendant, a man assumed to be accustomed to routine business and to have the trained official's capacity for details. Any other man than Frontenac would have seen the matter in this light, and rejoiced that a substitute had been found for him in a most uninteresting duty. He still had access to the council, and whenever he chose to attend, he occupied the seat of honour as the king's immediate representative, while a lower functionary would act as chairman, put questions to the vote, and sign the minutes. To the mind of Frontenac, unfortunately, the thing presented itself in a very different light; he saw his prerogative attacked, his dignity impaired. If he was not president of the council, why was he ever so addressed in official despatches? M. Duchesneau, on the other hand, took his stand on the stronger ground of a special ordinance appointing him to the office. Behold the elements of a mighty quarrel![134]

In the early days of Frontenac's governorship the preamble of the proceedings in council used to read: "The council having assembled, at which presided the high and mighty lord, Messire Louis de Buade Frontenac, chevalier, Comte de Palluau," etc. Later it was simplified so as to read: "At which presided his Lordship, the governor-general." After the arrival of Duchesneau a new formula was adopted. In the minutes of the 23rd September 1675, the intendant is mentioned as "having taken his seat as president"; and in those of 30th September we find the words "acting as president according to the declaration of the king." The bickering began almost from the date of Duchesneau's arrival; but it was not till the winter of 1678-9 that it developed into actual strife. The minister received many tiresome communications on the subject, and in April 1679 he seems to think that the chief fault is on the side of the intendant, for he writes to him sharply: "You continually speak as if M. de Frontenac was always in the wrong. . . . You seem to put yourself in a kind of parallel with him. The only reply I can make to all these despatches of yours is that you must strive to know your place, and get a proper idea into your head of the difference between a governor and lieutenant-general representing the person of the sovereign, and an intendant." This was hard enough, but what follows is a shade worse: he is told that in making his reports, particularly when they contain accusations, he "should be very careful not to advance[135] anything that is not true." Finally, he is warned that until he learns the difference between the king's representative and himself, he will be in danger, not only of being rebuked, but of being dismissed. Frontenac's turn came a few months later. Colbert writes in December of the same year, and tells him that the king is getting very tired of all this squabbling, and has come to the conclusion that he (Frontenac) "is not capable of that spirit of union and conciliation which is necessary to prevent the troubles that are continually arising, and which are so fraught with ruin to a new colony." The king had heard of the trouble that was being made over this petty question, and Colbert expresses his Majesty's surprise that Frontenac should bother his head about such a thing.

When this despatch reached Canada, Frontenac had gone much further in the matter than either the king or the minister suspected. Peuvret, clerk of the council, had been imprisoned because he would not disobey the orders of the council, in the matter of his minutes, in order to obey those of the governor. During four months the routine business of the council had been suspended while this wretched business was being fought over. Three of the councillors had been banished from Quebec, being ordered to remain in their country-houses till permitted to return. A more discreditable state of things could not well be imagined, nor one of worse example for the country. A[136]t last a compromise was proposed by d'Auteuil, the attorney-general, which was that the minutes should mention the presence of the governor and intendant at the meetings of the council, without speaking of either as presiding or as president. Frontenac at first would not have anything to do with such an arrangement, but finally he consented to it till the king's pleasure could be known.

The king this time lost patience. When an answer came back, it was his displeasure that was known, and displeasure with his "high and mighty Lordship, the governor." The king told him plainly that he had on various occasions advanced claims that had very little foundation, and that in this matter his pretensions were directly opposed to a royal ordinance. His Majesty added: "I am sure you are the only man in my kingdom who, being honoured with the titles of governor and lieutenant-general, would care to be styled chief and president of a council such as that at Quebec." Colbert dealt with the matter officially, and quoted this opinion of the king's almost in the same words. He also observed that, if Frontenac had any wish to give satisfaction to his Majesty, he would have to change entirely the line of conduct he had hitherto pursued. It seemed, however, as if the court could not afford to give a clear victory to Duchesneau, for, as a practical settlement of the point at issue, it was ordered that the modus vivendi suggested by the attorney-general and actually in force should be adopted as a permanent rule—a clas[137]sical example of political trimming.

It is difficult to understand how any man in Frontenac's position could fail to feel profoundly humbled and chastened by so emphatic a reproof emanating direct from his sovereign master, and echoed in an official despatch from the minister in charge of colonies. We look in vain, however, for evidence that any such effect was produced on the spirit of the governor. He doubtless felt that he had achieved at least half a victory. The title had been depreciated in the despatches from the court; it was not worth his having, and Duchesneau was not to have it. For a time there was what looked like a truce between the two heads of the state, and shortly afterwards we find Duchesneau writing to say that he and the governor are now on excellent terms; that he is omitting nothing on his side that can give satisfaction to the latter; that he communicates the very smallest things to him, and that he hopes, by sheer force of amiability, to secure a little show of kindness in return. Seeing, however, that in the same despatch in which these excellent sentiments occur, he enters into lengthy accusations against Frontenac on the trading question, and that the latter was engaged about the same time in working up similar charges against him, as appears by a document bearing date the following year, we may reasonably doubt whether very amicable or charitable feelings prevailed on either side.[138]

D'Auteuil, the attorney-general, who had been for some time in a failing condition, and whose health had probably not been improved by his occasional stormy interviews with the governor, by whom he was cordially detested, died in the early winter of 1679-80. Duchesneau, in anticipation of this event, had obtained the king's permission to name a successor, and had secured a signed commission which, to be complete, only required to have a name filled in. Auteuil's son, François Madeleine, had been assisting him for a couple of years in his office, and as he was a very assuming youth—he was not yet twenty-one—and bitterly hostile to the governor, he was naturally the intendant's choice. Young d'Auteuil had hardly entered on his duties before he picked a quarrel with Boulduc, prosecutor of the lower court, known as a firm ally of Frontenac, whom he ordered to wait upon him at his office every Saturday to prepare cases for the court under his (d'Auteuil's) supervision. Boulduc refused. The council took the matter up, but found it hard to decide, and the squabble dragged during most of the year 1680. In the following year facts came to light which caused Boulduc to be charged with embezzlement, and d'Auteuil pushed the matter with great zeal. Frontenac, anxious to save his friend, tried to represent the accusation as the outcome of private vengeance; unfortunately the facts were against the procureur, who was condemned, and dismissed from office.[139]

Some of the side issues that were raised on this occasion brought out strikingly the spirit of Canadian official society. Villeray, first councillor, a man more obnoxious to Frontenac on account of his extreme devotion to the ecclesiastical authorities perhaps than by reason of his dubious antecedents,[19] gave himself, in certain pleadings, the title of "esquire." Frontenac denied that he had any right to it, and held the pleadings invalid. Frontenac's secretary, Le Chasseur, appeared on a summons before the council, but refused to answer because he had been described in the summons as "secretary of Monsieur, the Governor," instead of "Monseigneur the Governor." Thus were the king's instructions to all and sundry to practise peace and concord being observed! A worse affair was that of the councillor, Damours, who, in the summer of 1681, obtained a congé from Frontenac to go as far as Matane where he had a property, and who was arrested by order of the governor on his return a few weeks later for having in some way exceeded the terms of his permit. Damours' wife appealed to the council, but Frontenac objected to having her letter read. Duchesneau urged the council to take cognizance of the case, but some of the members did not feel it safe to do so, and finally the papers were referred to the king—another quarrel for his[140] Majesty to adjust! Meantime Damours remains in confinement for about six weeks. His Majesty of course disapproves of such harshness. In a letter dated 30th April 1681, after giving his representative various other cautions, he begs him to divest his mind of all those private animosities which up to the present have been almost the sole motive of his actions. "It is hard," he adds, "for me to give you my full confidence when I see that everything gives way to your personal enmities."

A question reserved for consideration in this chapter was as to how far there was foundation for the charges of illegitimate trading brought so continually by the intendant against the governor, and retorted by the latter against the intendant. What may be noticed in the first place is the slight amount of attention apparently paid by the court to these charges and counter-charges. The king could not openly approve of trading on the part of his high officers; he was obliged to condemn it in strong and precise terms; but he knew at the same time that they had starvation salaries, and it is possible that he was not wholly unwilling that they should, in a quiet way, make a little money out of the traffic in furs. Frontenac and Duchesneau were both recalled in the end; but it was not for trading; it was for quarrelling, playing at cross-purposes, and sacrificing the welfare of the country to their mutual jealousies. M. Lorin, whose sympathy with Frontenac is conspicuous,[141] is disposed to admit that he did not wholly abstain from trading; but he thinks he did it in a more respectable and less rapacious manner than Duchesneau. He observes that Frontenac's partners, if partners he had, were chiefly the great explorers, La Salle, Du Lhut and others; while the associates of Duchesneau were traders pure and simple, men like Lebert, Le Moyne and La Chesnaye. On the other hand the court does not seem to have taken Frontenac's accusations against the intendant seriously. The king indeed informs him that he regards his charges as "mere recriminations." Duchesneau, it will be remembered, had been warned not to put into his despatches things that were not true; possibly he was worrying the minister and the king with information they would rather not receive. The correspondence of 1679 shows clearly the hostile relations of the two administrators.

In the summer and fall of that year the governor spent nearly three months at Montreal. On the 6th November, having returned to Quebec, he writes to the king: "I have received diverse advices from the Jesuit fathers and other missionaries that General Andros (Governor of New York) was lately soliciting the Iroquois in an underhand way to break with us, and that he was about convening a meeting of the Five Nations, in order to propose matters of a nature to disturb our trade with them." Four days later the intendant takes up his parable and informs the minister that the governor "had[142] made the news he pretended to have received regarding the plans of the English general, Andros, to debauch the Iroquois," the whole thing being a mere pretext for making a prolonged stay at Montreal at the height of the trading season. He charges the governor with exacting presents from the Indians in return for the protection afforded them by his guards, and with having taken seven packages of beaver skins from the Ottawas in consideration of his having settled a dispute into which they had got with some Frenchmen at Montreal. It will be remembered, and the fact certainly has an air of significance, that, when it was a question of granting amnesty to the coureurs de bois, it was Duchesneau who suggested that each man should be required to give the fullest information as to what trade he had been carrying on, and on whose account. The amnesty was granted without this condition. Evidently the court did not want an embarrassment of information. Duchesneau's trouble was an excess of not wholly disinterested zeal.

The case is not overstated by Frontenac's latest and fullest biographer, M. Lorin, when he says that "the lack of a good understanding between the two administrators had divided Canadian society, or at least that portion of it which came into contact with the king's officers, into two camps." Street brawls arising out of the embitterment of feeling were not infrequent. An illustrative incident was the imprisonment of young[143] Duchesneau, son of the intendant, for singing in the streets some snatches of a song disrespectful to the governor. The patience of the court was at last exhausted, and in the summer of 1682, Frontenac and Duchesneau were simultaneously recalled; and thus was brought to a close the count's first term of office as governor of Canada.

Some larger questions relating to this period may now profitably occupy our attention. One of the earliest acts of Frontenac, it will be remembered, was to summon the Iroquois to meet him in conference at Cataraqui, where, by his happy manner of dealing with them, he established a remarkable personal ascendency over their minds, and succeeded, for the time at least, in placing the relations between them and the French upon an excellent footing. The frequent visits which he subsequently paid to his favourite fort gave him opportunities of improving his acquaintance with his dusky lieges and of strengthening the good understanding that had been brought about. For some years things worked smoothly, and the colony enjoyed a comfortable sense of security. From the first, however, the influence of Onontio was more felt by the eastern and nearer members of the confederacy than by the western and more remote; and, as time wore on, the latter, particularly the Senecas, began to show a quarrelsome and insolent temper. They did not venture to attack the French, but they committed various acts of aggression on native tribes allied wi[144]th them and under their protection. Several years before they had waged war with the Illinois and driven them from their habitations. Then they turned southwards and engaged in a prolonged conflict with a tribe known as the Andostagnés, during which time the Illinois, having recovered in a measure from their losses, ventured to return to their former abodes. The explorations of La Salle had brought these people into alliance with the French; but when the Senecas had successfully concluded their war with the Andostagnés they were not disposed to refrain from attacking them anew on that account. After various preliminary raids, they sent, in the spring of 1680, an army of five or six hundred men into the Illinois territory and committed great havoc. It was on this occasion that Tonty, La Salle's lieutenant, nearly lost his life at Fort Crèvecoeur. The question now was whether the French would stand idly by and see their allies destroyed. If they did, not only would their influence over the tribes trusting in their protection be annihilated, but they might soon have to fight for their own preservation without any native assistance. Frontenac sent messages to the Iroquois enjoining them to keep the peace; but the voice that once had charmed and overawed sounded now a very ineffectual note. Father Lamberville, Jesuit missionary to the Iroquois, wrote to say that the upper tribes had lost all fear of the French, and that a slight provocation would cause them to[145] make war on Canada.

Frontenac and Duchesneau both discuss the matter in their despatches of the year 1681, the latter as usual blaming the former, hinting that he shirked his duty in not going up to Cataraqui in the previous summer in order to meet the tribes and use his personal influence in favour of peace. Frontenac writes as if he had not much confidence in that method; he asks for five or six hundred soldiers to quell the rebellious tribes. He thinks it would be quite enough to patrol Lake Ontario with a respectable force in order to bring them to submission. After this despatch had gone, news arrived of a most regrettable incident which threatened to precipitate war. This was the murder of a Seneca chief by an Illinois on the territory of the Kiskakons, one of the Ottawa tribes in alliance with the French. According to Indian usage the Kiskakons were responsible for the crime, and the Senecas were hot for revenge. Appreciating the gravity of the situation, Frontenac sends a special message to request the offended tribe to stay their hands, promising to hold himself responsible for seeing that full atonement is made for the wrong done. They consent, but ask that he will meet them somewhere in or near Iroquois territory on the 15th June of the following year. No pledge is given on this point, but messengers are sent to the Ottawas to tell them that they must be prepared to make full amends, and that, if they will send delegates to Montreal, the matter will be discus[146]sed and arranged there.

The winter of 1681-2 was clearly an anxious one for the colony. Frontenac thought it well to summon the wisest heads in the country to meet in the Jesuit Seminary at Quebec in order to discuss the Indian question in all its bearings. Those taking part in the conference, in addition to himself, were the intendant, the provost, and three Jesuit fathers, who had had long experience in mission work and knew the savage tribes thoroughly. The general opinion of the meeting was that Frontenac should go to Fort Frontenac to meet the Iroquois, as they had requested, in the following month of June. Frontenac, for some reason or other, did not like the idea. He did not want to go further than Montreal. Moreover, there was no use, he said, in meeting the Iroquois till he knew what the Ottawas were going to do; and they would not reach Montreal till late in the summer. The governor had his way. The Ottawas, including the Kiskakons, came in August. Only with great difficulty were they persuaded to give the necessary satisfaction to the Iroquois, who, they said, no doubt with truth, were much keener in seeking satisfaction for wrongs than in giving it when wrong was done by themselves. The Iroquois sent delegates to Montreal in the following month; and by dint of presents and promises a somewhat doubtful arrangement was patched up for the temporary maintenance of peace. Frontenac took advantage of his visit to Montreal to[147] survey the fortifications and give instructions for strengthening them at several points. These were virtually the final acts of his administration, for in the last week of September his successor landed at Quebec.

What at this time were the resources of the colony in population? In 1668, under the administration of Courcelles, Talon, the intendant, had reported the population at 6282. In 1673, a year after his arrival, Frontenac made a return showing a total of 6705 souls. The king, Colbert said, was much disappointed at these figures and thought they could not be correct, as there were more people in the country ten years before. Where his Majesty got this information we do not know, but probably from some agent of the West India Company interested in exaggerating the prosperity of the country. He seems to have completely overlooked Talon's figures for 1668, not to mention two previous returns made by the same careful officer in 1666 and 1667; the first showing a population of 3418 only, and the second one of 4312. It seems probable, however, that Frontenac's figures were somewhat short, as the increase they showed was less than seven per cent. over Talon's for 1668, five years earlier; while a return which he made two years later gave a population of 7832, indicating a gain of nearly seventeen per cent. in that comparatively brief period. Even these figures did not satisfy the king, who insisted that he had sent over more people himself in the[148] fifteen years or so that the country had been under his direct control.

It is to be remarked that for some years after Frontenac's arrival in Canada immigration received a serious check. His commission as governor was nearly even in date with the commencement of Louis XIV's buccaneering war against Holland, in which he was joined by his English cousin Charles II. The heroic stand made by the Dutch against the united power of the French and English monarchies is one of the glories of their history. It was not a good time for French immigrant ships to be abroad; moreover, all available Frenchmen were wanted for military service, over 200,000 having been drafted into the land forces alone, and the losses by war continually calling for recruits. A natural increase, however, was going on in the colony all the time; and in 1679 Duchesneau reported the population of Canada at 9400, and that of Acadia at 515. Three years later, at the end of Frontenac's first administration, the number had increased to over 10,000.

Trade, however, was not prosperous. Duchesneau, in November 1681, speaks of it as declining; though he tries to show that the West India trade in particular had increased in his time. The reason why trade was not prosperous is not far to seek: it was hampered and strangled by various forms of political control. The West India Company, called into existence by Colbert in 1663, had[149] not fared much better than the Company of New France organized by Richelieu. The reflections which Clément makes on this subject in his life of Colbert are much to the point. "If ever a company," he says, "was placed in circumstances where everything seemed to promise success, assuredly it was the West India Company as reconstituted by Colbert. Monopolizing the commerce of a large part of the West Indies and of the settlements on the west coast of Africa, absolute and sovereign proprietor of all the territory in which its privilege was exercised, receiving large premiums on all that it exported or imported, one would naturally expect it to surpass the expectations of its founders. The contrary, however, was what happened, and new mortifications were added to all that had gone before. . . . By the year 1672 the company was bankrupt."[20] The chief cause of the failure M. Clément believes to have been the prohibition of trade with foreigners. Certainly what Canada most wanted was an outlet for its productions; and, could foreign vessels have freely visited the country to buy fish, lumber, potash, and skins, not to mention their own supplies, Canada would have had an open and really unlimited market during nearly the whole season of navigation. This restriction of foreign trading continued unfortunately after the king had bought out the rights of the bankrupt company in the year 1674. Having only the market of France t[150]o depend on, the trade of the colony was subject to all the vicissitudes by which that market was affected. It thus suffered severely through the war with Holland, which brought an enormous strain to bear, for a period of six years (1672-8), on the finances of the kingdom. In the years 1675 and 1676 starvation was stalking through the land; the courtiers, in driving from Paris to Versailles, would frequently see the corpses of the wretched victims of famine strewing the highway; while in Brittany and one or two other provinces the hangman was doing a merry business in swinging off the unfortunates whose misery had driven them to theft or other acts of disorder. "Gallows and instruments of torture were to be seen at all the crossways," says Henri Martin. Madame de Sévigné gives the most horrible details in regard to the severities exercised, but with very little show of sympathy for the unhappy people whom she speaks of as a "canaille revoltée"—rebellious riff-raff. "This province" [Brittany], she says, "will be a fine example for the rest and will teach the lower orders to respect the higher powers." To the same fluent and graceful pen we owe the almost Tacitean utterance: "The punishments are easing off: by dint of vigorous hanging, there will be no more hanging to do." "They make a desert," says Tacitus, "and they call it peace."

Such was the industrial stagnation prevalent about this time throughout the kingdom that very often vessels arriving at certain ports could no[151]t find return freights; there was nothing to export. Colbert's efforts to build up great industries by means of bounties and restrictive tariffs had, after a temporary flash of success, resulted in dismal failure; and when peace was made with Holland in 1678, one of the conditions agreed upon was that "reciprocal liberty of trade between France and the United Provinces was not to be forbidden, limited, or restrained by any privilege, customs duty, or concession, and that neither country should give any immunities, benefits, premiums, or other advantages not conceded equally to subjects of the other." Thus was Colbert's leading principle of commercial policy completely overthrown, and that after a war which had brought him to the verge of despair to provide the means for carrying it on.

Those were the days, however, of "imperialism" in a very real sense. Whatever the state of commerce might be in the Mother Country, Canada still had to trade with her alone; and, even so, all mercantile operations were hampered by an arbitrary fixing of prices. This was so under the sway of the company, and continued to be so to a large extent after its privileges had been swept away. Very imperial was the rule of Louis XIV. In his youth he had seen an attempt by the parliament of Paris to assert its prerogatives. In January 1649, just about the time when the scaffold was being prepared for Charles I of England, he and the court hardly knew where[152] to turn for shelter; and he never forgot one night which they had to spend in fireless rooms without any attendance. The royal power, astutely guided by Mazarin, asserted itself eventually over parliaments and princes alike; and Louis XIV, arrived at manhood, determined that no such trouble should occur again in his time. Gaillardin, in his history of the reign of Louis XIV, fixes upon the year 1672—the year in which Frontenac was sent to Canada—as the epoch of the most complete enslavement of the parliaments. The historic function which those bodies were supposed to exercise, apart from their judicial powers, was that of registering the royal edicts; and in theory such registration was necessary in order to give any edict the full force of law. Manifestly this privilege might, like the control over money votes exercised by the English House of Commons, have developed into an effective check upon monarchical absolutism. The possibility was not overlooked, and marvellously clear and precise is the declaration by which Louis XIV, in the year 1673, put all the parliaments of his kingdom into the precise position he meant them to occupy. "First of all," the decree reads, "silent obedience: the courts [parliaments] are strictly forbidden to listen to any opposition to the registration of the letters of the king; clerks are forbidden to enter such oppositions on the records; bailiffs are forbidden to give notification of them. . . . The courts are ordered to register the letters of the king without any[153] modification, restriction, or condition which might cause delay or impediment to their execution." When this duty has been submissively performed, then, if the parliaments have any observations to make, they may make them; but, when once the king has replied, there is to be no further discussion of any kind, simply prompt obedience. The registration of the royal edicts became henceforth a mere matter of form; and remonstrances of any kind, even such as the king graciously permitted after registration, ceased to be made. The Chancellor d'Aguesseau [21] says that none were made during the remaining forty-two years of the king's lifetime.

It may be objected, perhaps, that this is French and not Canadian history; if so the answer must be that it is impossible to understand the history of Canada in this period unless we have a sufficient comprehension of the political system to which Canada was bound by the most vital of ties. We get a strong light upon the character of Frontenac when we rightly grasp that of his master, the Roi-Soleil, as he allowed himself to be called, the man who, daring the fate of Herod or Nebuchadnezzar, once said, "It seems to me as if any glory won by another was robbed from myself." Some years before he had put on record the sentiment: "It is God's will that whoever is born a subject should not reason but obey."[154]

To return, however, to Canada, when the king bought out the rights of the bankrupt company, monopoly was not at an end, for he proceeded to put up the trade of the country, under limited leases, to the highest bidders. Those who obtained leases were called the "farmers," and were entitled to ten per cent. of the value of all furs taken in the country. The Sovereign Council at Quebec undertook to fix the prices of goods except as regards dealings with the Indians; and non-resident merchants, while they might establish warehouses, and there sell to the French inhabitants, were not allowed to deal directly with the Indians, these being left to the mercy of local traders who made a practice of charging them excessive prices for all that they sold. Frontenac and Duchesneau both report to the home government that the Indians get twice as much from the English and Dutch in exchange for their furs as they do from the French; and yet the aim of both is to force all the Indians in their jurisdiction to sell their furs exclusively in Canada. Canadians who went to the English settlements, either in New England or in what is now New York, were amazed at the cheapness of goods. Duchesneau, in one of his later despatches, speaks of the commercial prosperity of Boston and the large fortunes accumulated by some of its citizens. Nothing similar was to be seen in Canada, where there was a settled belief on the part of the governing powers in whatever was most restrictive and illiberal in commercial policy.[155]

The first administration of Frontenac will always be associated with the intrepid enterprises of the great western explorers, Jolliet, La Salle, Du Lhut, Nicolas Perrot, and others. To Jolliet is reasonably assigned the first discovery of the Mississippi. Starting from Green Bay, or, as it was then called, Baie des Puants, on the west shore of Lake Michigan, in company with the Jesuit father, Marquette, he worked his way to the Wisconsin River, which he followed to its junction with the Mississippi; and then descended the latter river till he reached latitude 33°, or about as far as the northern boundary of the present state of Louisiana. Fear of falling into the hands of the Spaniards, who, as he was informed by the Indians, had settlements not far to the south, caused him to retrace his steps. When he was just completing his return journey, his canoe upset close to Montreal, and all his papers were lost, including the notes he had made of his observations, and a map of the region through which he had passed. He himself narrowly escaped with his life—the laws of nature were in fact suspended, as he gravely declares, in his behalf—but a young savage whom he was bringing from the country of the Illinois was drowned.[22] He reached Quebec in the month of August 1674, and the thrilling account which he gave of his adventures produc[156]ed a strong impression on the mind of the governor. Nevertheless when, two years later, he asked permission to go with twenty men to make further explorations in the same direction, Colbert refused his request. A possible explanation is that his previous journey with Père Marquette had established relations which Frontenac did not quite approve between him and the Jesuits in the western country, who had lost no time in pushing their missions towards the south. However this may have been, Frontenac had his eye at this very time upon a man who seemed to him much better suited to be an agent of his policy.

It has already been mentioned that Robert Cavelier de la Salle obtained from the king in the year 1675 a grant of the fort erected by Frontenac at Cataraqui. The conditions of the grant were that he was to reimburse the cost of construction, estimated at ten thousand livres; keep it in good repair; maintain a sufficient garrison; employ twenty men for two years in clearing the land conceded to him in the neighbourhood; provide a priest or friar to perform divine service and administer the sacraments; form villages of Indians and French; and have all his lands cleared and improved within twenty years. On these terms he was to have four square leagues of land, that is to say, eight leagues in length along the river and lake front, east and west of the fort, by half a league in depth, together with the islands opposite. But what was of most[157] value in a pecuniary sense, and what he depended on to compensate his outlay, was the right of hunting and fishing in the neighbouring region, and of trading with the Indians. To what extent La Salle actually developed the property thus conceded to him is a matter of dispute. The Abbé Faillon, who perhaps has some little animus against him, says that he did nothing worth mentioning towards establishing such a colony as the king intended. The king, on the other hand, when granting La Salle authority to undertake explorations in the direction of the Mississippi speaks approvingly of the work he had done on his concession. The information may have been derived from La Salle himself, who went to France in the autumn of 1677 to obtain sanction for his proposed expedition; but it is hardly likely that he would lay altogether false information before the minister for submission to the king. It seems to be certain that he did at least put the fort in a good condition of defence. He pulled down the old one, which consisted merely of a wooden palisade banked up with earth and having a circumference of one hundred and twenty yards, and replaced it by one having a circumference of seven hundred and twenty yards, and protected by four stone bastions.

The probability is that La Salle, from the first, looked upon his establishment at the fort partly as an advanced base for the further explorations he had in view, and partly as a means of providi[158]ng the funds without which his schemes could not be realized. The proposition which he laid before the government, was that he should erect at his own expense two forts, one at the mouth of the Niagara River on the east side, the other at the southern extremity of Lake Michigan; and that he should be commissioned to proceed to the discovery of the mouth of the Mississippi, and be granted the exclusive right of trading with the Indians inhabiting the countries to be visited. The trade he was most anxious to control was that in buffalo hides, a sample of which he had brought with him to France. Having obtained all necessary powers, he sailed for Canada in the summer of 1678, bringing with him as much money as he could persuade his family and friends to advance, together with a large quantity of goods. The pecuniary obligations thus assumed were to be paid off, as he hoped, partly by the profits of his trade at Cataraqui, and partly by those of his operations in the more distant West. The story of his struggles and tribulations is too long to give in any detail here, but the main points may be hurriedly sketched.

The first care of the explorer on arriving at Quebec in the autumn was to load several canoes with goods to the value of several thousands of francs, and despatch them with a party of men to the Illinois country. In the spring carpenters were sent forward to Niagara to commence the construction of a fort. He himself followed in a large canoe laden with provisions and goods. Hi[159]s first misadventure was the loss of this canoe and its freight, not far from the mouth of the Niagara River. The accident was due to the inattention of his men while he was on shore. A little above the Falls of Niagara he began the construction of a forty-five ton vessel, destined for the trade between that point and an establishment he proposed to make at the southern end of Lake Michigan. The Iroquois of the neighbourhood did not like these proceedings, but did not make any active opposition. The vessel was completed and La Salle and his men sailed away in her through Lake Erie, the St. Clair River, and Lake Huron into Lake Michigan. Severe storms were encountered on the way. Near Green Bay the men whom he had sent forward with goods the previous fall met him with a number of canoes, all laden with skins, the result of their trading with the Illinois. This was more expedition than he had counted on, for he had told them to await his arrival. He caused the goods, however, to be transferred to his vessel, the Griffon, as she was called, and sent her back to Niagara with a sufficient crew. She was never heard of more; but the Indians reported that, shortly after she left shelter, a terrible storm had arisen on Lake Michigan. They watched her for some time as she was tossed about by the fury of the waves, and then they lost sight of her. Ignorant of this disaster, La Salle was making his way south. He established two forts on the Illinois River. The first, which he called St. Louis, wa[160]s near the site of the present town of La Salle. The second, a little further south, near to Peoria, he named Crèvecoeur. The name is significant of "heartbreak," and his fortunes were then at their lowest ebb, for provisions were exhausted and a number of men had deserted; still it is not recorded that the name was given on that account. Leaving Henry Tonty, a man of great energy and resource, whom he had brought out from France, in charge of Fort Crèvecoeur he made his way back alone to Fort Frontenac and thence to Montreal.

It was at Fort Frontenac that La Salle first learnt the fate of his richly-laden Griffon; while at Montreal the news reached him of the loss of a vessel coming from France with a large quantity of goods for his trade. Such an accumulation of misfortunes was enough to break the spirit of an ordinary man; but La Salle was a man whom adversity could not conquer. Straining his credit to the utmost to procure supplies and reinforcements, he returns to the Illinois country to find Fort Crèvecoeur in ruins. It had been attacked by the Iroquois and its defenders scattered. Tonty, wounded in the skirmish, had gone to Michilimackinac. Getting no word of him, La Salle assumes that he is dead. Once more the long journey eastward must be faced. He reaches Montreal, and succeeds in organizing yet another expedition. Again he sets out for the West. It is late in the fall of 1680 when he reaches Michilimackinac, where he is overjoyed to find the lost[161] Tonty. The two proceed together to the Illinois country. The year 1681 is spent in establishing or re-establishing posts and dealing or negotiating with the natives. On the 6th February 1682 La Salle strikes the Mississippi. Two months and three days later, or on the 9th of April, he is gazing forth over the waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

The tale is quickly told; but not so easy is it adequately to appraise the courage, determination and resource necessary for the accomplishment of such an enterprise. Knowing what we do of the man, the portrait of him in Margry's third volume seems to possess a certain convincing character, though Margry himself does not vouch for its authenticity. We see a face sensitive, perhaps sensuous, subtle, passionate, daring, tenacious. Such a man could not bind himself to the task of patient colonization at Fort Frontenac, or even find satisfaction in the more varied and exciting life of a frontiersman and trader. An overwhelming desire possessed him

and to follow the swelling flood of the mightiest of rivers to its bourne in some mighty sea. Such a man will have the defects of his qualities, and La Salle was neither devoid of jealousy nor incapable of injustice; and he was a somewhat hard taskmaster. Possessed himself of iron nerve and unbending resolution, and sustained by visions of high accomplishment, he expected more from[162] average men than they were altogether capable of rendering. More than once some of his followers deserted him. One attempt was made at Fort Frontenac to poison him; and finally he met his death at the hand of an assassin, a member of his own party, in that far southern region which he had added to the domain of France.

Frontenac's personal relations with La Salle are not very clearly defined. He was certainly favourable to him at first. The two men were much alike in their attitude towards the ecclesiastical power; and both showed a preference for the Récollet order, two members of which La Salle maintained at the fort. Frontenac also approved of La Salle's plans of discovery in the west and south, as tending to the extension of the French dominions and the glory of the French name, and possibly also as furnishing a counterpoise to the growing influence of the Jesuits among the western Indians. There is nothing, however, to show that he followed the later movements of the great explorer with any particular sympathy.

Du Lhut was a man of a different type. He did not possess the vaulting ambition, nor perhaps the talent for organization, of La Salle; but he discovered a vast stretch of new territory in what is now the western part of New Ontario, and along the course of the Assiniboine; and, so far as skill in the management of the native races was concerned he was probably superior to the more romantic explorer. No man was more s[163]uccessful in upholding French prestige amongst the Indian tribes. It was just before La Salle returned from France in the autumn of 1678 that Du Lhut, in somewhat clandestine fashion, slipped off to the West. Those were the days in which the coureur de bois difficulty was at its height; and, upon arriving at Sault Ste. Marie, he wrote to Frontenac in a rather deprecatory tone as if sensible of the doubtful legality of his position, but pointed out the advantages that would accrue from entering into relations with the North Western Indians. About a year later he presided over a great meeting of the tribes on the site of the important city which now bears his name (according to one spelling of it); established peace between communities that had long been at war; and obtained the promise of the important tribe of the Nadessioux to direct their trade in future to Montreal. This was eminently useful work, and gained for its author the full sympathy of Frontenac. Nevertheless, on his return to Quebec in the following year (1680), he was imprisoned for violation of the king's regulations, in all probability at the instance of the vigilant M. Jacques Duchesneau, who would be prompt to suspect complicity in illegal trading between him and the governor. He was released after a short detention, and went to France in the fall of 1681, in the hope of obtaining the king's sanction for further explorations. In this he was unsuccessful; but, returning to Canada, he obtained employment in the West [164]as post commander and agent to the tribes west and north of Lake Superior. Through him the French influence was extended, not only far into what is now our own North-West, but even to the shores of Hudson's Bay, much of the trade which had before been done with the English of that region being diverted, through his persuasions, to Montreal.

While the secular rulers of the country were, with somewhat divided aims, striving to promote the material interests and provide for the security of the colony, the church, with considerably more unity of purpose, was labouring to achieve spiritual results. The promotion of M. de Laval to the see of Quebec put an end to much disputing and mutual distrust amongst different orders of the clergy. It is said to have had a markedly beneficial effect on Laval himself, who seemed at once to dismiss the exaggerated suspicions he had entertained regarding all who were not thoroughly subdued to his influence, and the Sulpician order in particular. Missionary work was actively carried on, and though the question of tithes gave more or less trouble, and the people were not as zealous as might have been wished in providing for the maintenance of their local clergy, y, y, the influence of the church and of religion was strongly felt throughout the length and breadth of the land. The king had much at heart the establishment of permanent curacies, and in 1679 issued an edict on the subject, which, however, had little effect. His Majesty's idea was that the curé should[165] receive tithes, and that if these did not suffice to give him a decent living, further rates should be levied on the seigneurs and the people. As even the tithes were paid very grudgingly, it is easy to believe that a scheme of further taxation for church purposes stood little chance of acceptance. We have already seen that Laval was by no means in love with the policy of fixed cures, and he was probably not sorry to be able to represent to the court that it really could not be carried into effect. Bishop and people together were too much even for the king.

The Récollets, always on the alert to make themselves useful, rose to the occasion by offering to serve the parishes and accept simply what the people might be disposed to give, but the bishop thought their zeal savoured of officiousness, and declined the offer with scanty thanks. These worthy ecclesiastics were very popular in the country, and it is probable they could have successfully carried out their undertaking had they been allowed to try. The bishop had other views for the nurture of his Canadian flock. The Récollet fathers did not at this time stand very high in his esteem. The Jesuits accused them of tolerating grave abuses in the household of the governor, who had a Récollet, Father Maupassant, for confessor; but, as M. Lorin pertinently observes, the accusation was singularly ill-timed, considering the flagrant disorders which marked the private life of Frontenac's master, Louis XIV, whose spiritual interests[166] were in charge of the Jesuit, Père Lachaise. The monarch—"ce religieux prince," as the Abbé Faillon calls him—had no hesitation in demanding of the parliament of Paris legitimation of successive batches of his bastard offspring, and registration of the titles of nobility he was pleased to confer upon them. Whatever the responsibilities of Father Maupassant may have been, he must have had a sinecure in comparison with the king's confessor. It may be added that Frontenac vehemently denied that there were any disorders or scandals in his household.

Missions to the different Indian tribes were in active operation during the whole of the period now under review. Those of the Jesuits were by far the most widespread. Their chief establishment outside of Quebec was at Sault Ste. Marie; in addition they had permanent missions at Mackinac, Green Bay, and various points in the Iroquois country; while Father Albanel penetrated as far as Hudson's Bay, and others laboured amongst the Indians of the Saguenay region. The Sulpicians were less adventurous; they did most of their evangelizing work on or near to the Island of Montreal. They had an establishment, however, on the Bay of Quinté, and one or more on the Ottawa River. The Récollets had Fort Frontenac, Percé on the Baie des Chaleurs, and certain posts on the line of La Salle's explorations.

As regards the conversion of the savage tribes, it can hardly be claimed that any of these miss[167]ions were very successful. All authorities agree that it was extremely difficult to impress the Indian mind with the truths of Christianity, or with the idea of any absolute and exclusive theology. The Indian was quite ready to accept the missionary's version of the origin of the world, provided the missionary would reciprocate and accept his decidedly different version. Each, he held, was good in its place; a little variety in these matters did no harm. He had little or no sense of sin, for he did not recognize that the things he did were wrong, and when threatened with the terrors of a future world, he simply said that he did not believe the "master of life" could hate anybody. At the same time he was quite prepared to join in religious services if requested, and seemed even to enjoy the ceremonial. He believed in unlimited charity to relatives and friends, but could not be got to admit the duty of forgiving enemies. An Indian who had been informed that in France many died of want, while others of the same nation had food and substance of all kinds in the greatest profusion, was scandalized beyond measure. He was affected much as we should be by some dark tale of cruelty and superstition from a far-off heathen land. And to think that people of whom such things could be told were sending missionaries to him, to enjoin upon him, among other things, the duty of charity![23]

But if the missionaries made comparatively little headway in the matter of actual conversions, it is impossible to doubt that they exerted a general influence for good upon the tribes to whom they ministered. This may fairly be inferred from the moral authority they exercised and the security and respect they enjoyed. They were themselves men of pure lives and disinterested motives; and so far they personally recommended the doctrines they preached. To some extent also they taught the savages various useful arts of life. Frontenac specially commends the Montreal Seminary for their efforts to civilize the Indians of their missions who, under their instruction, had taken to raising domestic animals, swine, poultry, etc., and to cultivating wheat as well as native grains. The Abbé Verreau, on the other hand, is inclined to hold that the attempts made, at the urgent demand of the French government, to civilize as well as christianize the Indians are accountable, in part at least, for the general failure of the missions. "We all know now," he says, "what has been the result of so much effort and so much outlay of money. Two or three poor villages inhabited by unhappy creatures who have added our vices to their own deficiencies, without having adopted any of our better qualities. That is all that remains of the Abenaquis, the Hurons, and the Iroquois."[24] The reflection is a sad one, and the abbé feels it, for he speaks further of[169] the painful mystery of the disappearance of these children of the forest. Truly does the poet say that "God fulfils Himself in many ways," yet none the less the surviving white man may well feel some misgiving when he thinks of all his past dealings with his red brother.

CHAPTER VII

GOVERNORSHIP OF M. DE LA BARRE

1682 TO 1685

The successors of Frontenac and Duchesneau received their appointments in the month of May 1682, and arrived at Quebec towards the end of the following September. They were, respectively, a military officer named Lefebvre de la Barre who had served with some distinction in the West Indies; and a man of whose previous career little or nothing is known, one M. Jacques de Meulles. If the fault of Frontenac had been the assumption of too much state and dignity, and the exercise of too much self-will, the fault of La Barre was that he possessed too little dignity and extremely little firmness of character. The recall of Frontenac had practically been one more triumph for the ecclesiastical authorities, who caused it to be understood that, if Duchesneau had also been recalled, it was simply to save Frontenac from too open humiliation. La Barre prudently determined, therefore, from the first not to come into collision with the clergy, whatever else he might do. On the other hand the Abbé Dudouyt writing from Paris, enjoins prudence on the bishop, lest "it should seem as if he could not keep on good terms with anybody." With such dispositions on both sides, it is not surprising that, during the whole of La Barre's[172] administration his relations with the church were extremely harmonious. The Abbé Gosselin says that he and Meulles "revived the happy times of the highly Christian administration of M. de Tracy." The king, however, did not view the situation with equal approval; the despatches of the period show that he thought that deference to the views of the clergy was being carried too far.

We have seen that, towards the close of Frontenac's administration, the Indian situation was again becoming critical. The arrangement patched up by him in the month of August was far from being of a very solid character; and when La Barre assumed the reins of government he found a widespread feeling of insecurity as to the continuance of peace. He thought it prudent, therefore, to summon, as Frontenac had done previously, a conference of persons specially competent to advise on the Indian question. The meeting took place on the 10th of October at Quebec, before Frontenac had left the country. He might, therefore, have attended it, had he chosen; and we cannot help feeling surprised that he did not. The general opinion expressed by those who took part in the deliberations was that the Iroquois were planning hostilities, and that the king should be asked to send out more troops. La Barre wrote home to this effect; but the same vessel that bore his despatch carried the returning ex-governor, who, on arriving in France, seems to have made it his business to throw cold water on the appeal fo[173]r help. It was doubtless to Frontenac's interest to represent that he had left the country in a peaceful and secure condition; but his conduct would appear in a better light had he gone before the conference at Quebec, and there explained, in the presence of those possessing local information, why he considered that there was no danger. La Barre could then in writing to the government have given his reasons and those of his advisers for dissenting from the ex-governor's views, and the latter could honourably have made his own representations to the court. As it was, the man who had ceased to be responsible was allowed to thwart the policy of the actual administrator on whom the whole responsibility for the safety of the country rested. La Barre is not a man who attracts our admiration or sympathy, but, in this matter at least, it is difficult to feel that he received fair treatment.

Remembering all the trouble there had been between the former governor and the intendant, La Barre hastens to inform the court that he and Meulles are on the very best of terms. As they had scarcely been two months in the country when this despatch was written, the announcement seems a little hasty. Meulles on his part does not make any such statement, and his letters of the following and subsequent years show that he had not formed a very high opinion of his superior officer. He complains that the meetings of the Sovereign Council are held in the governor's own antechamber, amid the noise of servants going an[174]d coming and the clatter of the guards in an adjoining room. The minister takes no notice of this; and a year later Meulles returns to the charge, stating that the governor held the meetings "in his own chimney corner where his wife, his children and his servants were always in the way." The intendant was a man of business, and liked to see things done in a business-like way. If he did not admire the disorderly methods of the governor, neither did he approve of the dilatory methods of the council. When matters were brought before him for adjudication he dealt with them promptly; and, in his desire to save delays, he disposed of some cases which the council considered as falling within its sole jurisdiction. Frontenac, it will be remembered, had packed off young d'Auteuil, who had been nominated by Duchesneau as attorney-general, to France to justify, if he could, the conduct he had been pursuing. The youth had come back a full-fledged attorney-general, and at once fell foul of the intendant, accusing him of exceeding his powers. Meulles was a prudent man and contrived to make his peace with the council. M. Lorin says there was probably as much real dissension as in Frontenac's time, but that it was hushed up. There is no evidence of this. Some dissension there may have been; but La Barre was not as fiery as Frontenac, nor was Meulles as intriguing as Duchesneau. The same elements of discord were, therefore, not present.[175]

We have seen that the court did not seem to take any serious notice of the charges of trading reciprocally brought by Frontenac and Duchesneau against one another; and in this matter La Barre appears to have assumed from the first that for him there was an "open door." At a very early period of his residence in the country, he formed intimate relations with certain prominent traders; it soon became evident, indeed, that he had placed himself and his policy largely in their hands. They were in the main the same men with whom Frontenac had accused Duchesneau of having underhand dealings, La Chesnaye, Lebert and one or two others. According to Meulles, the governor not only carried on trade on his own account contrary to the king's regulations, but trade in its most illegal form, that is to say with the English. His Majesty's representative found out without much trouble what the Indians were well aware of, that the English paid a much better price for furs than could be got in Canada from the king's farmers who controlled the fur trade of the country. He talks freely indeed of the English in a despatch dated in May 1683, and says that they both sell goods cheap to the Indians and give them full price for their furs. It is a saying among the English, he adds, that the French do not trade with the Indians but rob them. It is no wonder he was anxious to send his own wares to so good a market. If the intendant may be trusted, indeed the governor was continually receiving at the château at Quebec Englishmen and Dutchmen[176] who were simply his agents at New York. La Hontan avers that he saw two canoe loads of his stuff at Chambly on their way to that emporium.

A man so devoted to money-making as La Barre could hardly be expected to take a very deep interest in the wider schemes of exploration and territorial expansion which appealed to the imagination of a La Salle. Possibly he thought he could curry favour with the court by disparaging the achievements of the latter. In a despatch of the 30th May 1683 we find him saying that he did not think much of the discovery of the mouth of the Mississippi, and that in any case there was a great deal of falsehood mixed up with the tales that were told of it. If the remark was meant to please, it seems to have been successful, for the king in his reply, under date 5th August following, says: "I am persuaded with you that Sieur de la Salle's discovery is very useless, and such enterprises must be prevented hereafter, as they tend only to debauch the inhabitants by the hope of gain and to diminish the revenue from the beaver." Could the power of official narrowness and banality go further? A man, taking his life in his hand, penetrates forest and jungle, commits himself to unknown waters, braves the encounter of hostile peoples, takes the risk of treachery among his own followers, faces every form of privation and all extremities of fatigue, travels a thousand leagues, and adds a continent to the possessions of his sovereign, only to have the verdict pronounced[177] by that sovereign that his discoveries are very useless, and that similar expeditions must be prevented for the future lest the beaver trade of Canada suffer!

La Salle's great discovery was made in the month of April 1682. Returning northwards in the autumn, with the intention of proceeding to France, and making a full report of his proceedings to the king, he heard, on reaching Michilimackinac, that the Iroquois were preparing a hostile movement against the Illinois. He determined at once to go back with a picked body of men to protect his threatened allies. The news of his discovery was therefore carried to France by the Récollet, Father Zénobe, who reached Quebec just as the ships were leaving, and may possibly have sailed in the same vessel as Frontenac. He does not seem to have given any information, in passing, to La Barre. The latter was expecting La Salle's return, and chose to put an unfavourable construction on his failure to appear. In writing to the minister he says that Fort Frontenac has been abandoned. The truth was that La Salle had left it in charge of one La Forest, and that subsequently a cousin of the explorer's, named Plet, had come from France to look after the trade of the fort in the interest of the parties in France who had advanced money for its construction and equipment. It is doubtful whether the place was ever left even temporarily unoccupied; but certainly La Salle had no intention[178] of abandoning it. On the contrary, not knowing of Frontenac's recall, he had written to him in October 1682 asking him to maintain La Forest in command and to let him have a sufficient number of men for purposes of defence. What is singular is that he does not appear to have given Frontenac any more information regarding his discovery than Father Zénobe gave to La Barre. Possibly he had some hope, as the latter hints, of organizing a separate government in the new territory he had discovered. In no case, however, can La Barre's proceedings towards him be justified. On the pretext that Fort Frontenac had been abandoned, he took possession of it, and turned it, if we are to credit Meulles, into a trading-post for himself and his friends. He had a barque built there, professedly for the king's service on the lake, but used it mainly, the intendant says, for his own trade.

La Salle spent the winter in the Illinois country. In the spring of 1683 he wrote to La Barre from his fort of St. Louis, announcing his discovery, and expressing the hope that the kindly treatment which he had always received from the previous governor would continue to be extended to him. His financial affairs had for some time been in a very unsatisfactory state, but he expected, he said, to be able in the course of the then current year to place them on a sound footing, and prove that he had not undertaken more than it was in his power to accomplish. He had meantime sent[179] men to Montreal for supplies, but these did not return, nor did he get any reply from La Barre either to this letter or to a later one written in June. Instead of replying, La Barre sent an officer named Baugy to take possession of Fort St. Louis. La Salle, who had started for Quebec, met Baugy on the way, and sent back word to his men at the fort not to resist the seizure. Du Lhut, under instructions from the governor, followed shortly after, confiscated the merchandise stored in the fort, and brought it to Montreal. La Salle on arriving at Quebec saw La Barre, and obtained from him restitution of Fort Frontenac, but could not get any compensation for the loss he had sustained through the interruption of his trading operations at that point. He consequently proceeded to France in the fall of the year, and in the course of the winter presented a full statement of the case to the minister, M. de Seignelay. Only a few months before, the king had expressed the opinion above quoted as to the uselessness, or worse than uselessness, of such explorations as La Salle had been engaged in; but when the explorer himself appeared upon the scene, a change came over the views of the court. The king writes to the intendant that, not only is the fort which the governor had wrongfully seized to be handed over to La Salle, but that full reparation is to be made for all the loss which he has sustained, and that the intendant is to see that this is done. Writing to La Barre himself, the[180] king informs him that he takes La Salle under his particular protection, and cautions the governor not to do anything against his interest. La Salle's agent, La Forest, is to be placed in charge of Fort St Louis.

Settling down to business, as he did, almost immediately on his arrival in the country, La Barre was naturally anxious that the persons to whom he issued hunting and trading permits under the regulations established in Frontenac's time should, as far as possible, be screened from competition, and he therefore most ill-advisedly gave the Iroquois tribes to understand that they might treat as they pleased any persons found trading who were unprovided with permits signed by him. The Iroquois, greatly pleased to have a pretext for such operations, proceeded to plunder some canoes belonging to the governor's own friends, who were still in the woods on the authority of permits issued by Frontenac. This alarmed the governor not a little, and caused him, in the spring of 1683, to send a special vessel to France with an earnest request for military reinforcements. Worse news came to hand very shortly after. La Salle's fort of St. Louis having been seized, the governor wished to stock it with goods, and had despatched thither seven canoe loads to the value of fifteen or sixteen thousand francs. As these canoes were passing through the Illinois country, where the Iroquois were on the war-path, the latter, who were not in a humour for fine[181] discrimination, seized them, explaining afterwards that they supposed them to belong to La Salle, whose property they claimed to have the governor's permission to plunder. La Barre writes to the king, under date 5th June, in still stronger terms, and says that, with or without reinforcements, he will move against the Senecas about the middle of August. This was mere bluster, as no preparations had at that time been made for a campaign. The king sent out one hundred and fifty men in August; but these did not arrive till the 10th October. It was then decided that war should be waged the following year. The intendant appears to have agreed entirely with the governor that war was inevitable; his chief fear seems to have been that the governor, in whose stability of character he had very little confidence, would change his mind on the subject, and fall back on some weak and futile scheme of conciliation.

The winter of 1683-4 was not marked by any notable event. In the following spring, pursuant to the plan which he had communicated to the French government, the governor sent instructions to the post commanders in the West, La Durantaye, Du Lhut, and Nicolas Perrot, to rendezvous at Niagara with as many men of the different Ottawa tribes as they could persuade to follow them. At that point they would find awaiting them provisions, arms, and ammunition, with means of transportation to the scene of action. Home levies of militia and of mission Indians w[182]ere at the same time being raised and equipped. At this stage of the proceedings it occurred to La Barre that it would be a good thing to inform the governor of New York, Colonel Dongan, of his intention to make war upon the Senecas. The communication happened to be particularly ill-timed. The English of Maryland and Virginia had been having their own troubles with the Iroquois, who had made many destructive raids into their territory; and in the early summer of 1684 Lord Howard of Effingham, governor of Virginia, had gone to New York to consult with the governor there as to the measures to be adopted, and thence had gone on to Albany, Colonel Dongan accompanying him, to hold a conference with the offending tribes—in this case the Oneidas, Onondagas, and Cayugas. Delegates from the Mohawks, who had not broken the peace, were also present; and one of them, Cadianne by name, made ample acknowledgment of the wrongs done by his brethren of the other tribes, to whom he took the opportunity of addressing some very severe and wholesome remarks. Shortly afterwards delegates from the Senecas also arrived, when a general treaty of peace and good-will was made between the Five Nations on the one hand, and the English and their Indians on the other. It was in the midst of these proceedings that Dongan received La Barre's letter. He replied by saying that the King of England exercised sovereignty over the whole Iroquois confederacy, and that if the Senecas had committed[183] the depredations complained of he would see that they made reparation; he hoped that La Barre, in the interest of peace, would refrain from invading British territory. He then took occasion of the conference to inform the tribes of the French designs, his object being to draw from them an acknowledgment of the sovereignty of the English king in return for a promise of protection against the French. The tribes, who had some time before requested that the arms of the Duke of York (now James II) should be raised over their fortresses, consented to this, but with the not altogether consistent proviso that they should still be considered a free people. The subject was further debated at the chief town of the Onondagas, the central nation of the confederacy, a few weeks later. Dongan was represented by Arnold Viele, a Dutchman. It happened that Charles Le Moyne of Montreal was also there, having been sent by La Barre to invite the Onondagas to a conference, as well as the Jesuit, Father Lamberville. Very little progress was made with the diplomatic question; but the Seneca deputies expressed very savage sentiments in regard to the French, promising themselves a feast of French flesh as the result of the coming war.

This was in the month of August, and La Barre, at the head of an expedition consisting of seven hundred Canadian militia, one hundred and thirty regular troops, and two hundred Indians, had left Montreal on the 27th July, expecting to be joined by about one thousand Indian auxiliaries[184] from the north and west. It took about two weeks to reach Fort Frontenac, where a delay of two or three weeks occurred, during which time the army began to sicken. The heat was intense, and the camp had been established on low malarial ground. La Barre himself became dangerously ill. Finally a move was made to the southern side of Lake Ontario, the army encamping at the mouth of what is now known as the Salmon River, a little east of Oswego. The place at that time was known by the ill-omened name of La Famine. In point of unwholesomeness the place was quite as bad as Fort Frontenac; and a large part of the army fell into a most deplorable condition of debility. Moreover, provisions ran short, and those whom malaria and other diseases had spared were face to face with hunger. Discontent was rife in the camp. All chance of taking the offensive against the Senecas was at an end. La Barre's one hope was that Charles Le Moyne's mission to the Onondagas had been successful, and that, through the good offices of that tribe, he might be able to make peace with some little show of honour. Most opportunely Le Moyne arrived on the 3rd September, bringing with him a celebrated Onondaga orator and politician named Ourouehati, otherwise known as Grande Gueule, or, as Colden, historian of the Five Indian Nations, has it, Garangula, together with twelve other deputies, eight of his own people, two Oneidas, and two Cayugas. To conceal as far as possible his real situation, La Barre had se[185]nt away his sick, and pretended to have come with a mere escort, the body of his army being at Fort Frontenac. Nevertheless, in his speech, while professing a desire for peace, he threatened war unless complete satisfaction were rendered by the Senecas and others for the mischief they had done, and pledges given for their future good conduct. Perfectly informed as to the real weakness of the French governor's position, Grande Gueule (Big Mouth) did not mince matters in replying to him. He thanked Onontio for bringing back the calumet of peace, and congratulated him that he had not dug up the hatchet that had so often been red with the blood of his countrymen. Onontio, he said, pretended to have come to smoke the calumet of peace, but the pretence was false: he had come to make war, and would have done so but for the sickness of his men. If the Iroquois had pillaged Frenchmen, it was because the latter were carrying arms to the Illinois. (This of course was not true as regards the seven canoes which the governor and his friends had sent forward; but Big Mouth was a diplomatist.) As regards conducting certain English traders to the lakes, which was one of the points complained of by La Barre, they were acting perfectly within their rights. They were free to go where they pleased, and to take with them whom they pleased. They were also quite justified in making war on the Illinois, who had hunted on their lands, and would give no pledge to refrain from attacking them in future. In this respect they had done[186] less than the English and French, who had dispossessed many tribes and made settlements in their country.

This was a forenoon's work. In the afternoon another session was held, and the day concluded with the settlement of the terms of peace. La Barre was not to attack the Senecas, and Big Mouth undertook that reparation should be made for the acts of plunder committed. He refused entirely to pledge his people to desist from war on the Illinois; they would fight them to the death; and La Barre, notwithstanding what he had said about the king's determination to protect his western children, was obliged to give way. Next morning he broke up camp and set out on the return journey. Sickness continued to plague his force, and eighty men died on the way to Montreal.[25]

But this was not all. The commanders in the West had acted on their orders to raise as many men as they could amongst the Indian allies in the region of the Great Lakes, and to lead them to Niagara. Du Lhut and La Durantaye had great difficulty in executing their task. Only the Hurons seemed in the least disposed to move. Nicolas Perrot, however, possessed more influence; and, mainly through his persuasions, a force was gathered of about five hundred men, drawn from the Hurons,[187] Ottawas, and other neighbouring tribes. Accompanying these were about one hundred Frenchmen of the coureur de bois class, who in manners and customs were at times hardly distinguishable from their native companions. Having got the force together, the next thing to do was to start them and keep them on the march. The commanders had a hard time of it: certain accidents happened on the way which to the Indians were of evil omen; and it was difficult to prevent whole bands from deserting. Finally, however, the expedition reached Niagara just about the time that La Barre was making terms with Big Mouth. They found there neither provisions, nor arms, nor instructions. In a short time a sail appeared. It was a boat sent by La Barre to tell them that he had made peace with the Iroquois, and that they might go home. The indignation and disgust of the warriors, the disappointment and mortification of the French leaders, may be imagined. The Indian allies said they had been betrayed, and expressed their opinion of the French in no measured terms. Some of the more hot-headed ones urged that, as they had started on the war-path, they should go on and attack the Senecas by themselves. Wiser counsels prevailed. The chief men had not been eager for the war from the first; and, calming the spirits of their followers, they induced them to turn their faces homewards. Some of them had come a thousand miles, and now that long journey had to be retraced with nothing accomplished. It was a[188] desperate blow to French influence in all the region of the Great Lakes.

The only man who gave La Barre any comfort in these depressing circumstances was Père Lamberville, missionary among the Onondagas. This amiable and kindly priest, who had written to Frontenac some valued words of commendation when he was leaving the country, wrote to La Barre to tell him that he had acted most wisely in making peace. So doubtless he had, in comparison with making war just at that time; but none the less the peace was one which made the colonists hang their heads with shame. Meulles in his despatch to the minister did not help to put the matter in a more favourable light. Speaking of the governor he said: "He signed the peace just as he decided on the war, without consulting any one but a few merchants; and he has uselessly expended forty-five thousand francs, of which he alone will owe an account to the king." So much severity on the intendant's part was hardly necessary; the facts spoke for themselves; and the king, when they were brought to his knowledge, wrote to the discomfited governor, under date the 10th March 1685, the following gently worded letter:—

Thus ended an administration that cannot be regarded as a happy or a creditable one. In no respect was M. de la Barre on a level with the office he held. He had no clear policy of his own, and was, therefore, more or less, at the mercy of incompetent or interested advisers. As is not uncommonly the case with such men, he was sometimes foolishly impulsive. In a letter, dated 10th April 1684, the king expresses the greatest surprise that the governor should have actually proposed to hang, of his own authority, a colonist who was preparing to remove to the English settlements. He reminds him that, except in military matters, he possesses no judicial power whatever, and adds the sage observation that the exercise of such constraint would certainly increase the desire of the French inhabitants to go where they would enjoy more liberty. In the matter of ecclesiastical policy, La Barre failed to carry out the views of the king. His instructions were to afford all the help in his power to the clergy in their efforts for the good of the country, but to see that they did not extend their authority beyond its proper bounds. In his first despatch he indulges in a little criticism of the bishop for his delay in establishing permanent [190]cures, as desired by the king; but this is his sole exhibition of anything like independence of the ecclesiastical power. There was a question pending at the time as to the emoluments to be secured to the country curés; and La Barre and Meulles are both blamed by the court for having allowed the bishop to appropriate a larger amount out of the royal grant for church purposes than the king had authorized or intended.

In the matter just referred to, however, the bishop may well have been substantially in the right. He knew the country, its needs, and its possibilities better than the king; and he had the interests both of his clergy and of his people sincerely at heart. It seems a little surprising that, just at this time, when his relations with the secular power were so satisfactory, he should have formed the intention of resigning the office which he had been so eager to obtain only a few years before, and of confining himself to the oversight of the Seminary. The explanation is to be found partly in the state of his health, and partly in the expectation he entertained of being able to find a man to replace him as bishop who would adopt and carry out all his views with the utmost fidelity and exactness, and thus give him even greater influence than he had had in the past. If a bishop alone could make headway against all the opposition of the civil power, what might not be expected of a bishop of sound opinions supported by such an ex-bishop as Laval himself? With these views[191] he sailed for France in the fall of 1684 to tender his resignation to the king; and, with these views also, he not long afterwards recommended as his successor a pious ecclesiastic of noble family, M. Jean Baptiste de la Croix Chevrières de Saint Vallier, who, though only thirty-two years of age, had already refused two bishoprics. Once before Laval had chosen a man for his piety, M. de Mézy, and it had not turned out well. The Reverend M. Gosselin, in his life of Saint Vallier, says that the day of his nomination was a regular "day of dupes." The appointment did not take place till the year 1688; but meantime M. de Saint Vallier consented to go out to Canada in the capacity of vicar-general, and make acquaintance with the diocese. Thus it happened that he and the Marquis de Denonville, La Barre's successor, came out together in the same ship, arriving at Quebec on the 1st August 1685. The vessel which brought the new governor was accompanied by two others carrying troops to the number of three hundred. Fever broke out on the way, as was so often the case in those days, and there were many deaths. Amongst those who succumbed were two priests, who, in their attendance on the sick, had caught the malady. Their fate inspired Saint Vallier with intense regret that he had not taken passage on the same vessel, so that he might have shared so glorious a death. The sentiment seems strange on the part of a man at his time of life, just entering on a career in which he might reasonably hope for[192] long years of the most exalted usefulness. He did not in fact die till the year 1727.

We have two accounts of the condition of Canada at this time; one from the pen of the bishop designate, the other from that of the new governor after a residence of a little over three months in the country. Strange to say, the two do not in the very least agree. Saint Vallier sees everything couleur de rose, and detects the odour of sanctity everywhere. Denonville, on the contrary, sees license, insubordination, idleness, luxury, debauchery, running riot throughout the land. "The Canadian people," says Saint Vallier, "is, generally speaking, as devout as the clergy is holy. One remarks among them something resembling the disposition which we recognize and admire in the Christians of the early centuries." Even in the distant settlements where a priest is rarely seen, the people are constant in the practice of virtue, the fathers making up for the lack of priests, so far as the training of their children is concerned, "by their wise counsels and firm discipline."[26] Denonville, just about the same time, undertakes to give the minister an account of the disorders prevailing not only in the woods, but, as he states, in the settlements as well. "These arise," he says, "from the idleness of young persons, and the great liberty which fathers, mothers, and guardians have for a long time given them of going into the fores[193]t under pretence of hunting or trading. One great evil," he continues, "is the infinite number of drinking-shops. . . . All the rascals and idlers of the country are attracted into this business of tavern-keeping. They never dream of tilling the soil; on the contrary, they deter other inhabitants, and end by ruining them." Of the two pictures, it is probable that the governor's was nearer the truth; though probably his ascetic turn of mind led him to exaggerate the evils that existed. Saint Vallier, when he came to the country as bishop in 1688, was not long in discovering how greatly he had overrated the virtue and piety of the inhabitants. He took an early opportunity of repairing his error as far as possible by preaching a sermon on the sins which he found prevailing. "We thought," he said, "before we knew our flock, that the Iroquois and the English were the only wolves we had to fear; but, God having opened our eyes, we are forced to confess that our most dangerous foes are drunkenness, luxury, impurity, and slander." We cannot think very highly of the judgment of a man who has to repudiate his own statements so completely in regard to facts fully open to observation.

It is allowable, fortunately, to take a more favourable view of the Canadian people than either the governor, or the bishop in his revised opinion, expresses. They were careless and ease-loving, more fond of adventure than of steady toil; they were vain and given to luxury; but these qualiti[194]es were in a large measure the result of the circumstances in which they were placed and the general influences of the time. How could they fail to be fond of adventure when incitements to it presented themselves on every hand, and the rewards that it promised were so much more tempting than those to be derived from the tillage of the soil? It was human nature in those days to prefer the gun to the spade, and the paddle to the scythe. If they were vain and fond of luxury and show, it proceeded in part from innate taste, and in part from the example of those above them, who, in turn, reflected the manners, the habits, and the tone of the most luxurious court in Europe. It soon began to be observed that a given class in Canada represented a higher degree of refinement and culture than a similar class in European France. The reason was that, in the vast spaces and free air of a new continent, human nature had more scope for expansion; ambition was stirred; thought and imagination were quickened. The old seed was germinating with new power in a virgin soil. The people were gay, chivalrous, courteous, and brave, with an underlying tenacity of purpose and power of industry ready to be revealed in due season under more settled conditions of life. That intemperance was a serious evil there can be no doubt; but that, too, was more or less incidental to the times. The physique of the people was good; and, if their moral habits were not all that their spiritual guides could have wished, they[195] were at least free from serious corruption. In a word, the Canadians of that period lived, on the whole, healthy lives, and were planting a hardy and enduring race on the soil they had made their own.

CHAPTER VIII

GOVERNORSHIP OF MARQUIS DE DENONVILLE

1685 TO 1689

The Marquis de Denonville was sent to Canada to retrieve a difficult and dangerous situation. He was a soldier by profession, and had had thirty years' experience of military life. His courage and honour were alike beyond question. In morals he was irreproachable. He was one of those laymen who are half churchmen; and on the voyage from France he greatly edified Saint Vallier by the gravity of his conduct and his punctilious observance of all the forms and practices of religion. "He spent," Saint Vallier himself tells us, "nearly all his time in prayer and the reading of good books. The Psalms of David were always in his hands. In all the voyage I never saw him do anything wrong; and there was nothing in his words or acts which did not show a solid virtue and a consummate prudence, as well in the duties of the Christian life as in the wisdom of this world." Three years later Saint Vallier speaks of him in terms of equal praise, adding that "there is no need to be astonished at the benedictions which God is bestowing upon his government and upon his enterprises against the Indians." Unfortunately, this interpretation of the ways of Providence preceded by just a year the greatest calamity[198] in early Canadian history, the massacre of Lachine.

The three hundred men who were sent out with Denonville were far from constituting, even had their number not been sensibly reduced by fever on the voyage, the reinforcement he required in order to assume the offensive against the Iroquois with any hope of success. He was compelled, therefore, to temporize while making the most earnest appeals for a more liberal supply of troops. To counteract English intrigues among the Five Nations, he sent numerous presents in that direction, and carefully avoided any acts which could precipitate a conflict. One of the chief perils of the situation was the disaffection produced in the minds of the Lake tribes by the dismal failure of La Barre's expedition of 1684. The only way to regain credit, he says in a despatch to the minister (Seignelay), dated 12th June 1686, is to put a sufficient number of French troops, militia and regulars, into the field to attack and defeat the Iroquois without any assistance from the western allies. He wished to begin building blockhouses for defensive purposes, but was afraid to do so, lest the enemy should consider it a preparation for war. Like La Barre, he entered into correspondence with the governor of New York, Colonel Dongan, but in a more guarded manner. He wrote first simply announcing his appointment to the governorship of Canada. Dongan replied in his usual high-flown manner with many expressions of courtesy. Denonville returned the complime[199]nt, and then took occasion to speak of the Senecas and the difficulty of keeping peace with them, inviting Dongan to assist him in protecting the missionaries who were labouring amongst those heathen at the peril of their lives. Dongan, who had been appointed by the Duke of York before he ascended the throne of England as James II, and who, as might be supposed, was a good Catholic, was quite ready to do justice to the personal merits of the missionaries; but his fidelity to the English Crown made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that they were Frenchmen operating on what he claimed to be English territory. Their influence, he knew, could not fail to be cast in favour of the rival claims of their own people; and his desire was to replace them, as soon as it could conveniently be done, by English priests, who, without being less sound in theological matters, would be more so on the political side.

The two governors were thus playing at cross purposes, and it was not long before all disguise in the matter was set aside. Each was planning the construction of a fort at Niagara for the purpose both of strengthening his influence in the Iroquois country and of shutting the other out of Lake Erie. Dongan heard of Denonville's intention from some coureurs de bois who had deserted to Albany; whereupon he wrote to the French governor to say that he found it hard to believe that a man of his reputation would be so ill-advised as to follow in the footsteps of M. de la Barre,[200] and seek to make trouble by planting a fort on territory clearly belonging to the King of England, and all for the sake of "a little peltry." Denonville replied with more diplomacy than truth that he had no intention of building a fort at Niagara; and expressed in turn his surprise that a gentleman of Dongan's character should "harbour rogues, vagabonds, and thieves," and believe all the silly stories they told him. As the correspondence went on its tone became warmer. Dongan had promised to send back deserters; but he found these men too valuable, and did not keep his promise. Denonville upbraids him for this want of good faith, and also for exciting the Indians by telling them that the French are preparing to attack them. He blamed him also for furnishing the savages with rum to the great detriment of their religious and moral interests; to which Dongan retorted that, in the opinion of Christians, English rum was more wholesome than French brandy.

While this correspondence was going on, both governors were doing their best to win over the Indians of the lake region. If these could be drawn into an alliance with the Iroquois, so that their trade should pass through the Iroquois country to the English, not only would the French lose the most profitable part of their traffic, but their political position would be seriously endangered, in fact would become untenable. There was much in the arrangement from[201] a business point of view to recommend it to the savage mind. The English paid better prices for goods, and gave their merchandise at lower prices; and, if their traders once had free access to the lake region, the effects of their more liberal dealing would be felt in every wigwam. Against this highly practical consideration was to be set a certain hereditary distrust of the Iroquois on the part of the Huron and Ottawa tribes, to which might be added the personal influence of the French missionaries and a few noted French leaders. The situation was for some time a most doubtful one; but in the end it was not the economic argument that triumphed.

In the winter of 1685-6, a Dutchman, named Johannes Rooseboom, had set out from Albany, by Dongan's directions, with a party of armed traders in eleven canoes, filled with English goods, to trade in the Upper Lakes. There was no resistance to their progress; and after trading most successfully, and to the great satisfaction of the Indians, they returned in safety. This was encouragement for a larger expedition the following year; so, in the fall of 1686, the same adventurer set out with a similar party in twenty canoes. On this occasion they were to winter with the Senecas and resume their journey in the spring, accompanied by fifty men, who were to come from Albany under the charge of a Scots officer named M'Gregory, and a band of Iroquois; the whole party to be under M'Gregory's command. The[202] intention was to form a general treaty of trade and alliance with the tribes that hitherto had been under the domination of the French.

This was a bold step to take, and shows Dongan in the light of an early advocate of the policy of "Forward." It was too bold. Fortunately for Denonville, he had in the early summer of 1686 sent an order to Du Lhut, then at Michilimackinac, to fortify a post at the outlet of Lake Huron, which that capable and zealous officer lost no time in doing. On hearing of the projected expedition, the governor was greatly incensed. He wrote to Dongan in strong terms, and at the same time laid the matter before the minister, declaring that it would be better to have open war with the English than to be in constant danger from their intrigues. A favourite plan of his was that Louis XIV should buy the colony of New York from James II, as he had previously bought Dunkirk from Charles II. The idea was not taken up by the French court, and there is much reason to doubt whether, with the best will in the world, the English king could have transferred the colony to France. It would have been an easy thing to send out orders, but it would have been quite a different thing to get them obeyed. In the New World men were already learning to put a very wide construction upon their civil rights; and, as far the larger portion of the population were of the reformed faith in one or other of its branches, they would certainly h[203]ave made strong objection to being handed over to the tender mercies of the monarch who, at this very moment, was extirpating Protestantism in his own kingdom by the cruelest forms of persecution. The appeal to Dongan drew forth from that worthy the declaration that, in his belief, it was "as lawful for the English as for the French to trade with the remotest Indians." He denied, however, that he had incited the Iroquois to acts of aggression, and protested, in regard to the deserters, that he would much rather "such rascalls and bankrouts" would stay in their own country, and that Denonville was welcome to send for them. Negotiations, however, were going on at this time between the English and French courts in relation to affairs in America; and both Denonville and Dongan received injunctions to cultivate peaceful relations with one another pending the settlement of all matters in dispute by a joint commission.

If Dongan was preparing to trespass upon French rights in the region of the Great Lakes, Denonville himself was acting with even less scruple in another direction. For several years before this, the Hudson's Bay Company, under the charter granted to them by Charles II in the year 1670, had been trading to the bay from which they derived their name, and had established a number of posts along its shores. The charter had been granted in perfect good faith, as the region in question, which had been discovered and explored by navigators sailing under the English[204] flag, Cabot, Hudson, Baffin, and Davis, was regarded as English territory. It is true that a memoir prepared by M. de Callières, Governor of Montreal, for the minister of marine and colonies,[27] mentions proceedings taken at different times by governors of Canada, between the years 1656 and 1663, to bring the country under French sovereignty; but there is nothing to show that any attempt was made at settlement or even at trading on the coast. The Hudson's Bay Company, on the other hand, had from the date of its charter, not to mention earlier operations, been carrying on trade, and establishing posts in that region without any remonstrance from the French government, and without disturbance of any kind until the year 1682, in the early winter of which two Frenchmen, named Radisson and Des Groseilliers, sailed into Hudson's Bay with two vessels, and took possession of a fort which the English had established near the mouth of the Nelson River. The explanation given by these parties was that they were acting on behalf of the "Compagnie Française de la Baie du Nord de Canada," which had previously formed establishments some distance up that river, and that finding that some English had begun to erect dwellings on an island at the mouth of the river, they had forced them to retire, considering their[205] own claim to the river and its outlet the better.

This was the beginning of trouble. The French king in writing to La Barre on the subject authorized him to check, as far as possible, English encroachments in that quarter. In the spring of 1684 he writes again, and says that he has had a further communication from the English ambassador in regard to the proceedings of Radisson and Des Groseilliers, and that, while he is anxious not to give the English king any cause of complaint, he still thinks it desirable that the English should not be allowed to establish themselves on the Nelson River. La Barre was therefore to make a proposal to the English commandant in Hudson's Bay that no new establishments should be formed there by either French or English. This was at the very least an acknowledgment of the status quo. Nevertheless, a charter having been granted by the French king in the following year to a Canadian company authorizing it to trade on the Bourbon River, called in previous correspondence the Nelson, Denonville chose to consider that fact a warrant for making a general attack on the English in the bay. While his discussion with Dongan was in progress in the summer of 1686, he organized an expedition of about a hundred picked men, thirty being regular soldiers, and placed it under the command of a very capable officer, the Chevalier de Troyes, assigning to him as lieutenants three sons of Charles Le Moyne, of Montreal: Iberville, Ste. Hélène, and Maricourt.[206] The difficulties of the overland route were most formidable, but Troyes surmounted them with the loss of only one man. He did not attempt any negotiation with the English, nor send any summons to surrender, but fell upon Port Hayes, the first to which he came, in the dead of night, and captured it without difficulty, the garrison being totally unprepared to resist an attack. At this point there does not appear to have been any loss of life; but at Fort Rupert, which was similarly attacked at night, three of the occupants were killed, and two were wounded. Three more men were killed on the same night on board a vessel anchored near the shore. When the assailants reached Fort Albany, held by a garrison of thirty men, they found that their coming had been anticipated, but, with the aid of cannon captured in the other forts, they had little difficulty in forcing a surrender. Leaving Maricourt in command at the bay, Troyes returned to Quebec. The English captured in this buccaneer fashion were sent home in one of their own vessels which happened to arrive opportunely for the purpose.

Denonville had succeeded in arousing the French government to the importance of proceeding vigorously against the Iroquois. Eight hundred men were sent out to him in the spring of 1687, which, with about eight hundred already in the colony, made the force at his disposal quite a formidable one. In the summer of the previous year there had been a change of intendant. M.[207] de Meulles had been recalled, and a new man, Bochart de Champigny, sent out in his place. As the appointment of the latter was made as early as April 1686, it may be surmised that Denonville, shortly after arriving in the country, signified to the king that he and Meulles were not adapted to work together satisfactorily. Meulles was certainly far from having the fervent piety of the governor; and it may not improbably have been some difference of opinion or policy arising out of this fact that caused his recall. His successor was a man conspicuously devoted to the church; and Denonville in his despatches praises him in high terms. Having now the necessary force at his command, and being zealously seconded in all his views by the new intendant, the governor determined not to let the summer of 1687 pass without undertaking his long meditated campaign against the Iroquois. While preparing for war, however, he talked of peace, in the hope of taking the enemy unawares. So far did he carry his dissimulation that he completely misled the colonists, so that, when they discovered that war was intended, they manifested a strong indisposition to respond to the call to arms. There were enough regular soldiers, they said, in the country to meet all military requirements. Denonville was too well advised, however, to dream of taking a force of regulars into the woods, unsupported by militia accustomed to the country and familiar with the methods of Indian warfare. He therefore issued[208] a special proclamation, which the vicars-general, in the absence of the bishop, supported by a mandement, with the result that the inhabitants, accustomed to yield to authority, furnished the quota of men required, about eight hundred.

The more effectually to throw the Iroquois off their guard, the governor had instructed his chief agent amongst them, Father Lamberville, a man in whom they had perfect confidence, to invite them to a friendly conference at Fort Frontenac. The good father was kept completely in the dark as to what was really intended, and was allowed to continue his solicitations to the Indians to attend the conference up to the moment when all disguise was thrown off. He was still with them when they discovered that they had been deceived; and, had it not been for the unbounded faith they had learnt to place in the good priest's word, they would certainly have put him to death with torture as a traitor. As it was they charged the deception entirely on Denonville, who, in this case, had certainly carried craft to very dangerous, not to say indefensible, lengths.

The expedition as organized by Denonville consisted of four companies of regulars, men who had been some time in the country, and four of militia, making in all fifteen hundred Frenchmen, to whom were added five hundred mission Indians, Christian in name, but scarcely less savage in instinct than their unreclaimed brethren of the forest. The regulars were comm[209]anded by their own officers, amongst whom we recognize Troyes, the hero of the Hudson's Bay exploit. The militia were led by four notable seigneurs, Berthier, Lavaltrie, Grandville, and Le Moyne de Longueuil, brother of the three Le Moynes who had accompanied Troyes. All the French troops were placed under the general command of Callières, Governor of Montreal, a very capable officer. M. de Vaudreuil, who had just come out from France as commander of the king's forces, accompanied the expedition in the capacity of chief-of-staff to the governor. The troops that he brought with him were left behind to take care of the country in the absence of its other defenders.

Starting from Montreal on the 13th June 1687, the expedition, after encountering the usual perils and fatigues of the St. Lawrence route, and losing one or two men in the rapids, arrived at Fort Frontenac on the 1st July. Here news was received of a reinforcement on which the governor had not permitted himself to count. In October of the previous year orders had been sent to the commanders in the West to rally the Indians of that region for another movement against the Iroquois. As Denonville well knew, there were serious difficulties in the way. The fiasco of 1684 had left a deplorable impression on the minds of the Lake tribes, whose loyalty was being further undermined by the pleasing prospect of trade with the English. These arguments, however, did not[210] weigh with the Illinois, the latest victims of Iroquois barbarity; and Tonty in charge at Fort St. Louis, who had been notified with the others, had little trouble in getting a couple of hundred of them to follow him to Detroit on the way to Niagara. Nicolas Perrot in like manner raised a contingent among the tribes to the west of Lake Michigan, and, passing by way of Michilimackinac, joined his efforts to those of La Durantaye who had been labouring all winter to win over the dissatisfied Hurons and Ottawas. The Hurons were at last persuaded to move; but the Ottawas still refused, and La Durantaye and the Hurons started for Detroit, the first place of rendezvous, without them. Scarcely had they left Michilimackinac when they fell in with a number of the canoes which Dongan had sent to trade in the lakes. La Durantaye at once summoned the intruders to surrender; and, as he seemed to have a formidable force with him, the summons was obeyed. The commander distributed most of the goods among his Indian followers to their great delight, and sent some barrels of rum to the Ottawas in the hope that it would incline them to follow. It is difficult to say what did influence the minds of these savages; but in a few days they set out, taking, however, a route of their own by way of the Georgian Bay and overland to what is now Toronto. Perrot and his men went to Detroit, and from that point he and the others conducted their respective commands to Niagara, arriving[211] there just about the same time that Denonville's force reached Fort Frontenac.

The gratification of the governor on learning that this important reinforcement had arrived just in the nick of time may be imagined. He sent word to the commanders to proceed to Irondequoit Bay, the entrance to the Seneca country; and, conducting his force thither, saw the western men approaching just as he himself was about to land. Such a concentration, on the same day, of troops brought from as far east as Quebec, and from as far west as the sources of the Mississippi, was indeed remarkable. It seemed on this occasion at least as if everything was destined to go well.

Denonville had now nearly three thousand men under his command. Forming a camp and erecting temporary fortifications on the point of land which shuts in Irondequoit Bay from Lake Ontario, he left four hundred men at that place to guard supplies, and arranged his army in marching order. The van was led by La Durantaye, Du Lhut and Tonty with their coureurs de bois, about two hundred in number. On their left were the mission Indians, and on their right the Lake and other western tribes—a wild and motley gathering of, for the most part, naked savages, made hideous with paint and horns and tails. Separated from these by a short interval, the main body of the army followed, regulars and militia in alternate companies. A broad trail ran southwards to the heart of the Seneca country, but on either sid[212]e was a dense bush in which enemies might well be concealed. The first day a distance of about ten miles was covered. It was mid-July, the heat was intense, the flies were outrageous, and the men were burdened with thirteen days' provisions in addition to their arms and ammunition. On the second day, as they were drawing near to the first fortified habitation of the enemy, whom they supposed to be awaiting them behind their defences, the advance guard was vigorously attacked both in front and rear by a foe as yet invisible. The Senecas had supposed that the advance guard, coureurs de bois and Indians, constituted the entire army, but learnt their error when those making the rear attack found themselves, as they soon did, between two fires.

Meantime, however, no little confusion had been caused in the ranks of the invaders; and Denonville and his principal officers had to exercise all their powers of command to prevent a panic. As soon as confidence was restored, the vigorous firing of the French and their allies put the enemy to flight. "The Canadians," says Charlevoix, "fought with their accustomed bravery; but the regular troops did themselves little credit in the whole campaign." "What can one do with such men?" wrote Denonville in a despatch to the minister. On the Canadian side five militiamen, one regular soldier and five Indians were killed, and about an equal number, according to Denonville's statement, were wounded. The Senecas left[213] twenty-seven dead upon the field. Their wounded they succeeded in carrying off; to have abandoned them would have meant to leave them to torture at the hands of the hostile Indians. As it was, the victory was followed by horrible scenes of cannibalism, in which the Ottawas, who, in the fight had showed marked cowardice, took the principal part.

This engagement, which has been localized as having occurred near the village of Victor, some fifteen miles south-east of the city of Rochester, N. Y., was the only one of the campaign. Not meeting again with the enemy, the army spent some days in burning the Seneca habitations, in which large quantities of grain were stored, and in destroying the standing crops. When this had been accomplished, they retraced their steps to their fortified camp on the lake shore. Already the army was getting into bad shape; the Indians were deserting and the French were falling sick through eating too abundantly of green corn and fresh pork; the latter article of diet being furnished by herds of swine kept by the Senecas. Despatching the sick in bateaux to Fort Frontenac, Denonville conducted the rest of his troops to Niagara in order to carry out the long-cherished design, which, in his correspondence with Dongan, he had disavowed, of erecting a fort at that point. This only occupied a few days; and on the 3rd August he was able to set out on the return journey, after detaching one hundred men to garrison the fort,[214] which he placed under the command of M. de Troyes. Proceeding further up the lake to a point where it narrows, he crossed over to the north shore, and so made his way to Fort Frontenac, and thence to Montreal, where he arrived on the 13th of the month. The campaign, as Parkman observes, was but half a success; it certainly fell short of being what Abbé Gosselin calls it, "une victoire éclatante." The Senecas had been put to flight; and their dwellings had been destroyed, together with their stores of food; but their loss in men was not serious, and they could rely on the neighbouring Cayugas and Onondagas to tide them over a season of distress. Denonville writes, indeed, that they were succoured by the English. At the same time the injury they had received sank deep into minds not prone to forgive.

An incident which happened before the expedition set out from Fort Frontenac tended greatly to aggravate the situation. It had been intimated to Denonville in a despatch from the French government that the king desired to have some captured Iroquois sent over to France for service in the galleys, as it was understood that they were muscular fellows, well fitted for such work. Champigny, who left Montreal with Denonville, went ahead of the expedition with a few light canoes, in order to make arrangements for its reception at Fort Frontenac. Finding at that place a number of Iroquois, chiefly Onondagas, who, relying on Denonville's professions of peace,[215] had come thither for trade or conference, and being anxious to show his zeal for his royal master, he did not hesitate to make them prisoners. The savages had their wives and children with them, a sure sign that they had come with friendly intent. This circumstance did not weigh with the intendant, nor was he influenced by the tears and entreaties of the families of the captured men. He doubtless thought that the formidable force which the governor was leading would strike such terror into the hearts of the Iroquois nation as to put anything in the way of reprisals quite out of the question: in any case there was advantage for himself in obeying the mandate of the king. What kind of a service it was for which the unfortunate captives were destined may be learnt from a description given by a careful French writer: "Chained in gangs of six, with no clothing save a loose short jacket, devoured by itch and vermin, shoeless and stockingless, the galley slaves toiled for ten hours consecutively at a rate of exertion which one would hardly have believed a man could endure for one hour. They were indeed in luck when they were not made to work twenty-four hours consecutively, with nothing to sustain their strength but a biscuit steeped in wine, which was put into their mouths, so that they should not have to stop rowing. If their galley began to lose ground the petty officers would rain curses on their heads and blows on their backs. Many a time, when the pace was being forced under a blazing[216] Mediterranean sun, some poor wretch would sink down dead on his bench. In such a case his companions would pass on his body, throw it overboard, and that was all."[28]

The total number of Indians sent home to France to be consigned to this fate was thirty-five. They were at Fort Frontenac as captives, bound helplessly to posts when Denonville's army passed through, and an eye-witness, the Baron La Hontan, tells how he saw the mission Indians torturing the poor creatures by burning their fingers in the bowls of their pipes. He tried to interfere, but was censured for doing so, and put under arrest. The leaders, doubtless, thought they could not afford to put their Indian allies out of humour by interfering with their amusements.[29] The wrong done in this matter seems to have created a far more bitter feeling in the minds of the Iroquois than the open war on the Senecas. The Oneidas retaliated by torturing a Jesuit father named Millet, and would in the end have put him to death if an Indian woman had not interceded for him and adopted him a[217]s her son. The temper of the savages generally, in spite of the campaign, was far from being a submissive one; and Denonville himself within a month of his return to Quebec came to the conclusion that another punitive expedition would be necessary before a solid peace could be obtained. He therefore wrote home asking that eight hundred additional troops should be supplied to him, observing that his Indian allies were not to be depended on, and that the Canadians were not at all zealous for military service. His opinion was that he should have a force of not less than three or four thousand men at his disposal for two years. The French government did not agree with him on this point. The troops could not be spared, and the king thought that it ought to be possible to arrange matters by negotiation. There were those, indeed, in Canada who thought the whole war had been unnecessary; certainly, for some time before the Senecas were attacked, they were not acting on the aggressive. The Iroquois tribes generally had been impressed by the fact that the military forces of the colony had been considerably augmented; and the character of the governor himself, who seemed to possess much more firmness and resolution than his immediate predecessor, had more or less influenced them in favour of peace. Had Denonville made the most of these advantages, and shown in addition a disposition to act with good faith, it is altogether probable a satisfactory peace could have been arranged without resort[218] to war.

However, the mischief had been done. All the Iroquois tribes had been angered, and the hives were ominously buzzing. Acts of reprisal became frequent. Even the immediate neighbourhood of Fort Frontenac was not secure, for during the following winter a woman and three soldiers were carried off within gunshot of its walls. The Onondagas who effected these captures stated expressly that they were made in retaliation for those so treacherously made by Champigny. The captives were not put to death, but were held as hostages, which gave them an opportunity of appealing to Dongan. That worthy was not at all sorry that his rival had got himself into trouble; and answered the appeal by saying that he could not do anything for them till Fort Niagara, unjustly planted by their governor on English territory, had been evacuated. On the last day of the year Denonville sent to Albany an able negotiator in the person of Father Vaillant, Jesuit, but with no satisfactory result. The only terms on which Dongan would consent to use his influence in favour of peace were that the prisoners sent to France for the galleys should be restored; that the mission Indians at Laprairie and the Montreal Mountain should be sent back to the Iroquois country to which they originally belonged; that Forts Niagara and Frontenac should be razed; and that the goods captured by the French from English traders on the Upper Lak[219]es should be restored. Scarcely had Vaillant left Albany on his return when Dongan summoned representatives of the tribes, and, acquainting them with the terms he had demanded, asked for their ratification, which was readily granted. He told the chiefs not to bury the hatchet, but simply to lay it in the grass where they could get it if it was wanted, and meantime to post themselves along the lines of communication to the French country.

The advice was promptly taken. Some bands operated along the St. Lawrence, others along the Richelieu. Early in the season of 1688 a convoy had been sent to revictual Forts Frontenac and Niagara. It passed up the river safely, but on its return it was attacked, though greatly superior in force, by a party of twenty-five or thirty Indians, who killed eight men, and took one prisoner. Other raids more or less destructive were made at Chambly, St. Ours, Contrecoeur, and even as far east as Rivière du Loup. In the face of these attacks a sort of lethargy seemed to have seized upon the colonists, making them slow to defend themselves even when the conditions were in their favour. In other respects also the state of affairs was one of great depression. The war had been costly and burdensome; and, owing to the withdrawal of so many men from the work of the fields, agriculture had greatly suffered. The pillaging carried on by scattered bands of Iroquois made matters still worse. Beggars began t[220]o be numerous in the streets of Quebec and Montreal. It is interesting to note that mendicity was not looked upon with favour in those days, and that praiseworthy attempts were made to regulate it and restrain it within the narrowest possible limits. Charitable ladies undertook to inquire into cases of ostensible want so as to distinguish those which merited relief from others which might proceed from idleness or misconduct. M. de Saint Vallier, who had returned to France in the autumn of 1687, came back as bishop in August of the following year. He brought with him two hundred copies of his work on The Present State of the Church in Canada, written by him after his arrival in France, and published at Paris in March 1688, in which, as already seen, a glowing tribute was paid to the piety of the Canadian people. Instead, however, of distributing this work in the country, as he had doubtless intended, he virtually suppressed it; and, in almost his first episcopal utterances, told the people that the troubles and distresses from which they were suffering were the result of their lukewarmness in religious matters. The statement was not received in the most submissive spirit. There were some who said that the mundane causes of the sad plight in which the country found itself were only too apparent, and that it was not necessary to look further.[30]

In the course of the summer of 1688, while Denonville had still under consideration the unpalatable terms proposed by Dongan, he received at Montreal, through the useful mediation of Father Lamberville, a visit from La Barre's old friend, the famous Onondaga orator, Big Mouth, who brought with him six other warriors. As on the occasion of his meeting with the former governor, Big Mouth occupied a strong position, and made the most of it. He had been holding back his own people, he said; otherwise they would have swarmed down on the colony and destroyed it. The conditions of peace which he proposed were those already outlined by Dongan; and he wanted an answer in four days. Denonville told him that he was prepared to treat for peace if the tribes would send delegates to Montreal duly empowered for that purpose. Big Mouth promised that this should be done, and meantime signed a treaty of neutrality. Denonville had by this time brought himself to the point of agreeing to abandon Fort Niagara, the garrison of which had been reduced by sickness from about a hundred men to ten or twelve, and with which, moreover, he found it impossible to maintain satisfactory communication. He had also been forced to give way as regards the captives sent to France, and had written asking that as many of them as survived might be sent out; suggesting at the same time that, to produce as good an effect as possible, they should be decently clothed. These were the principal points, and he hoped to be able to ma[222]ke peace without any further concessions.

The negotiations, however, were destined to be badly wrecked. The Indian allies, Hurons and Algonquins, had only too good reason to suspect that the peace would not include them. Big Mouth had been ominously non-committal on that point. It was doubtless remembered that, when La Barre had made peace with the Iroquois, he had abandoned the Illinois to their mercy. A leading Huron, Kondiaronk, or the Rat, by name, determined that there should be no peace if he could help it. He was at Fort Frontenac with a party of forty warriors when he heard that negotiations for peace were in progress and that delegates from the Five Nations were expected to arrive in a few days. His plan was at once formed. Pretending to have set out with his party for Michilimackinac, he really paddled over to La Famine, placed himself in ambush in the path of the delegates, and waited their coming. It was four or five days before they appeared, and no sooner were they within gun shot than the Huron party fired. One chieftain was killed outright; several were wounded; the rest, all but one who escaped wounded, and made his way to Fort Frontenac, were captured. The captives in great indignation explained to the Rat the mission they were on, when the wily Huron expressed the most profound regret, saying that the French had sent him out on the war-path, and had never given him the slightest hint that peace negotiations were [223]in progress. He was eloquent in denouncing the bad faith of Onontio, and at once let his captives go. True, the warrior who had escaped heard a very different story at Fort Frontenac—that the Rat had been specially informed of the negotiations, and had professed that he was starting for home; nevertheless, as the Rat expected, the peace was killed. The party attacked had consisted of some men of consequence who were preceding the delegates to give assurance to the governor that the latter would soon be at hand. They never came. Other thoughts now occupied the Iroquois mind.

For months there was an ominous calm. The winter of 1688-9 passed without incident, and so did the following summer. Marauding on the part of the Iroquois had so entirely ceased, that the opinion began to prevail in the colony that the enemy had lost courage, and were no longer disposed for war. Some rumours, it is true, reached the governor that mischief was brewing, but he paid little heed to them: no special measures of defence whatever were taken. A strange kind of somnolence seems to have crept over almost the entire population. The intendant, in a despatch written just about this time (6th November 1688), after speaking of the disastrous effect of brandy drinking upon the Indians, goes on to say: "The Canadians also ruin their health thereby; and, as the greater number of these drink a large quantity of it early in the morning, they are incapable of doing anything the remainder of the day." It may[224] safely be assumed that the morning potations were indulged in without prejudice to a tolerably free use of the bottle in the evening. It is remarkable that so serious a judgment upon the habits of the people should have preceded by only a few months a striking and fatal example of their unreadiness and incapacity.

The night of the 4th August 1689 was dark and stormy with rain and hail. It was just such a night as might serve to cover the approach of a stealthy foe; and the foe, vengeful and relentless, was at hand. Fourteen hundred Iroquois had descended the St. Lawrence and taken up their station on the south side of the Lake St. Louis, opposite Lachine. About midnight, amid the darkness and the noise of the elements, they crossed the lake, and, landing, posted themselves in small bands close to the dwellings of the slumbering inhabitants. An hour or so before daybreak, a war-whoop, the preconcerted signal, was raised. Instantly a thousand savage throats gave forth the dismal howl; and then began the work of slaughter that made "the massacre of Lachine" a name of terror for generations. The account of the disaster given by Charlevoix, who puts the number of the slain at two hundred, has been generally followed by later writers; but there is fortunately reason to believe that the massacre was much less in extent, and perhaps somewhat less horrible in character, than the reverend father represents. Judge Girouard,[31] who has gone into the matte[225]r in a most careful and painstaking manner, places the number of persons killed at Lachine—men, women, and children—at twenty-four. The place was defended by three forts, all of which had garrisons; but from these no help seems to have been afforded to the wretched inhabitants. The torch did its work as well as the tomahawk, and fifty-six houses were burnt. There were some regular troops—about two hundred—under an officer named Subercase, encamped about three miles off. A shot from one of the forts gave the alarm, and Subercase with his men marched to the scene of action. Many of the Indians had inebriated themselves with brandy seized in the houses of the inhabitants; and it is probable that, had they been promptly and vigorously attacked, they might have been defeated with heavy loss. Subercase was just on the point of leading his men against them, when M. de Vaudreuil, acting-governor of Montreal in the absence of M. de Callières who had gone to France, appeared on the scene with formal and positive orders from M. de Denonville, who, as ill-luck would have it, was at Montreal, to remain strictly on the defensive. Subercase was extremely indignant, and felt strongly tempted to disobey; but the instinct of subordination prevailed, and he remained inactive. The Indians meanwhile dispersed themselves over the Island of Montreal, killing, capturing, burning, and meeting with little or n[226]o resistance.

A really circumstantial and consistent account of the whole occurrence is lacking; and it is therefore uncertain how long the Iroquois remained in the neighbourhood. The probability would seem to be that the main body retreated with their prisoners and booty after a brief campaign, but that some bands of warriors stayed behind for further pillage. On the 13th of November a bloody raid was made on the settlement at La Chesnaye, on the north shore of the St. Lawrence, some twenty miles below Montreal; all the houses were burnt, and the majority of the inhabitants either killed or captured. The total number of persons killed elsewhere than at Lachine is estimated by Judge Girouard, who has endeavoured to trace the names in the parish registers, at forty-two, making, with the twenty-four killed at Lachine, a total of sixty-six. As regards the number of captives, the same authority, whose careful methods inspire much confidence, accepts the statement of Belmont, who places it at ninety. We read that, when the savages left Lachine, which they did without any attempt being made from the forts to harass their retreat, they crossed Lake St. Louis, and, encamping on the opposite shore, lit their fires and began to torture their prisoners. Torture, there can be no doubt, was sufficiently congenial to the Iroquois nature; and yet there is room for doubt whether there is sufficient warrant for the highly coloured n[227]arrative which has become the popular legend on this subject. It was usual with the Iroquois to carry their captives with them into their villages; and it is known that they did this with at least the great majority of those whom they secured on the Island of Montreal, for many of them were alive years afterwards. Moreover had there been many burnings on the south shore of Lake St. Louis, the same pious care which caused the re-burial a few years later (1694) of the remains of the victims of the Lachine massacre would have been extended to any that might have been found on the site of the last encampment. There is no record of the discovery of any such remains or of their burial or re-burial. It is true that some burnings of captives occurred in the Iroquois villages; still it is some satisfaction to think that the calamity as a whole was not on the scale that tradition has represented.[32]

It is related that as the savages paddled away from the Lachine shore, they called out: "Onontio, you deceived us; now we have deceived you." The[228] last days of Onontio, in his official capacity at least, were at hand. The king had decided early in the year that he was not the man to support a falling state or rescue an imperilled community, and had offered the position again to Count Frontenac notwithstanding the many troubles that had marked that gallant soldier's former tenure of office. Evidently, with all his faults of temper, he had at least impressed himself on the king as a man who could be relied on in the hour of danger. Denonville's last act was one which strikingly illustrated the condition of feebleness and dejection into which he had fallen. Dongan and the Iroquois had demanded the abandonment of Fort Frontenac. Denonville now determined that this was the only course to follow, and accordingly sent orders to the garrison to blow up the walls, destroy the stores, and make the best of their way to Montreal.

CHAPTER IX

FRONTENAC TO THE RESCUE

From the moment that Prince William of Orange, the one unconquerable foe of Louis XIV, was called to the throne of England, war between England and France was a foregone conclusion. It was not declared, however, in France till the 25th June 1689. Frontenac sailed from Rochelle on the 5th August following, the very day of the Lachine massacre. The king in an interview with him is reported to have said: "I am sending you back to Canada, where I am sure that you will serve me as well as you did before; I ask nothing more of you." His Majesty also intimated, we are told, that he believed the charges made against him were without foundation. During the intervals between his two terms of office, Frontenac had been living for the most part at court, in rather reduced circumstances. The king once at least came to his relief with a gratuity of three thousand five hundred francs, and possibly other liberalities may have flowed to him from the same royal source, though Mr. Ernest Myrand, after careful research, has not been able to discover trace of any.[33]

The mission which was tendered to the aged count—he was now in his seventieth year—was one which a younger man might have felt some hesitation in accepting. The last accounts from Canada showed the country to be in a deplorable condition, equally unable to make an enduring peace or to wage a successful war; and the worst was yet to be told on the governor's arrival. The situation was rendered decidedly more critical by the fact of the war with England. True, a treaty had been made by Louis XIV with James II, providing that, should war break out between France and England, it should not extend to their American possessions; but Louis, who did not recognize William III as a legitimate sovereign, probably felt under no obligation to observe a treaty made with his predecessor. We know, at least, that a scheme for the conquest of the English colonies was arranged before Frontenac's departure. Callières, Governor of Montreal, had been sent to France by Denonville in the fall of 1688 to represent the perilous situation of the colony, and to urge the king to adopt a system of reprisals against the English for the misdeeds of the Iroquois. Callières and Frontenac had some friends in common, and were thus brought together at court, and the plan that was adopted was probably one that they had jointly suggested to the court. It was, briefly, that two or three war vessels should accompany Frontenac to Canada; that the count should disembark at some point on the coast of Acadia, and proceed by the first[231] private vessel he could secure to Quebec; that on arrival there he should organize a force of sixteen hundred men, one thousand regulars, and six hundred militia, to march on New York by way of Albany; and that when he was ready to move, he should notify the commander of the squadron, so that the latter might advance to New York, and be prepared to co-operate in the capture and occupation of the place. Meantime, the naval force was to employ itself in picking up any English trading vessels that might fall in its way.

Not only were plans thus formed for invading and seizing the English colonies, but the French king made complete arrangements as to the treatment of the inhabitants when conquered. Those who either were Catholics, or were prepared to embrace the Catholic faith, might be allowed to remain in possession of their property and civil rights; the citizens of means were to be imprisoned and held for ransom, the rest of the population, numbering about eighteen thousand, were to forfeit everything and be driven penniless out of the country. It was proposed to deport them, in the first place, to New England, pending the ulterior conquest of that region. M. Lorin truly observes that Louis XIV, having just deprived his own subjects of religious liberty by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, could not possibly be expected to tolerate it in any country of which he might acquire control.[34] A more ruthless policy cou[232]ld scarcely have been devised, nor, it may be added, a more senseless one. The deportation of so large a body of inhabitants, mainly of Dutch origin, and all accustomed to the use of arms, was a task ridiculously beyond the ability of the forces he was proposing to employ for the purpose.

The plan was followed, so far as the sending out of a small squadron with the new governor-general was concerned. Sailing, as already mentioned, on the 5th August, Frontenac arrived at Chedabucto (Guysborough), near the Straits of Canso, on the 12th September, and there embarked in a small vessel, the François Xavier, for Quebec. On the way he stopped at Percé, where the Récollet missionaries informed him of the massacre of Lachine. His vessel must have been detained by contrary winds, for it was the 12th October before he arrived at Quebec. Here he was received by the citizens with the liveliest manifestations of joy. The ecclesiastics associated themselves, bon gré mal gré, with the popular feeling. The town was illuminated by night and hung with banners by day; a Te Deum was sung; and a Jesuit father delivered what is recorded to have been a most pathetic discourse. On all hands the count was acclaimed as the man the country needed to restore its fallen fortunes and stay the hand of the destroyer. Denonville and Champigny did not grace the rejoicings; they were at Montreal.[233]

Quebec, however, was not the point of danger, nor that at which the governor's services were most required. Still he remained there eight days before proceeding to Montreal, where he arrived on the 27th October. At that place he learnt from Denonville of the instructions he had given for the abandonment and destruction of Fort Frontenac. The indignation of the old warrior, to whom the fort called after his name was a spot of peculiar predilection, can better be imagined than described. He could hardly believe that a French governor could perform so craven an act. If we may trust the Baron La Hontan, who does not in this case tax very seriously our powers of belief, the interview between the two dignitaries was a decidedly stormy one.[35] There was no time to waste, however, in useless debate. Something possibly had happened to delay or prevent the carrying out of the orders, and the fort might perhaps yet be saved. An expedition was hastily organized to proceed to the spot and ascertain the facts, but scarcely had it well started before it encountered the entire garrison of the fort, minus six men, whom they had lost in the rapids on the way down, returning to Montreal. The deed had therefore been done. Valrennes, the commandant, told how he had destroyed the stores, thrown su[234]ch arms and ammunition as he could not remove into the river, undermined the walls and fired the train, and how, as they retreated, they had heard a dull explosion. Yes, the deed had been done; but, as it turned out later, not with the full result intended. The mines had exploded, but probably they had been hastily and not over skilfully placed, and the injury to the walls was but slight. Not long afterwards Frontenac was able to repair the damage and put the fort once more in a condition of defence.

The season was now so far advanced that the project which had been formed of raising a large force with which to invade English territory, in conjunction with a naval attack on New York, had to be abandoned. La Caffinière, commander of the squadron, waited for two months for some sign of the arrival of the Canadians, and then sailed back to France, making a few prizes on the way. But, if the governor was unable to organize an expedition on a large scale, he did not forego his intention of attacking the English colonies. If he could not march with an army he could make raids after the Indian fashion. His plan was to stand simply on the defensive as regards the Iroquois, and to impress their minds by the suddenness and vigour of his attacks on the English. Three raiding parties were accordingly organized, one having its base at Montreal, the second at Three Rivers, and the third at Quebec. The Montreal party consisted of a little over tw[235]o hundred men, of whom somewhat less than half were mission Indians from Sault St. Louis—the present Caughnawaga settlement—and the Montreal Mountain. The remainder of the party consisted for the most part of coureurs de bois, formidable men for border warfare, far steadier than the Indians, and just as wary. Their destination was Albany and the neighbouring English settlements. The leaders were men of skill and courage, Daillebout de Mantet, and Le Moyne de Ste. Hélène; the latter, a man greatly admired and beloved for his brilliant soldierly qualities and gay, amiable disposition, but nevertheless a keen and relentless fighter. With these were two of Ste. Hélène's brothers, formidable men all, Le Moyne d'Iberville, who had already made fame for himself in Hudson's Bay, where still greater glory yet awaited him, and Le Moyne de Bienville, together with several other members of the Canadian noblesse. The Three Rivers party was under the charge of François Hertel, a man of much experience in Indian warfare. When quite a lad he had been carried off by the Iroquois, and had endured some cruel treatment at their hands before making his escape,[36] and since then he had been in constant contact with them either in peace or in war. With him went three of his sons, twenty-four Frenchmen[236], and twenty-five Indians, fifty-two men in all. The third party, recruited at Quebec, consisted of fifty Frenchmen and sixty Abenaquis Indians from the settlement at the falls of the Chaudière, under the command of M. de Portneuf, who had as lieutenant his cousin, Repentigny, Sieur de Courtemanche. The Montreal expedition set out in the beginning of February, those from Three Rivers and Quebec a few days earlier; but before recounting their exploits, it may be well to glance at the negotiations, which the governor was at this time carrying on with a view to putting the relations of the colony with the Iroquois tribes on a better basis.

The king, it has been mentioned, had consented to send back the Indians who had been so treacherously captured and sent to France as galley slaves. It would be doing his Majesty injustice to suppose that he ever intended his representative in Canada to procure men for his galleys in so disreputable a fashion. The Marquis of Denonville from the moment of his arrival in Canada had breathed nothing but war; and the king doubtless counted on a large number of prisoners as the result of his martial prowess. It is significant that, even before encountering the Senecas, Denonville should have written to the king explaining how very difficult it was to capture Iroquois in battle. He did not say so, but he doubtless thought that to trap them would be much easier. Out of nearly forty Indians sent to France, thirteen only were alive when the[237] order for their restoration to their country was given; the rest had died of hardship and homesickness. The survivors were sent out in the same vessel with Frontenac, who did all in his power to make them forget the wrongs they had suffered. The most important man in the band was a Cayuga chief named Orehaoué, between whom and the count a sincere friendship seems to have sprung up. During the whole voyage the count treated him with the highest consideration, invited him to eat at his table, and furnished him with a handsome uniform; so that, by the time they landed at Quebec, the savage chief was completely won over to the French side. The same treatment was continued after they landed. Orehaoué was lodged in the Château St. Louis and went everywhere with the governor. There was policy in this of course on Frontenac's part, but there is no reason to doubt that on both sides there was a genuine feeling of attachment.

After viewing the scene of desolation at Lachine, Frontenac reported to the king that nine square leagues of territory had been laid waste. The question was what to do. The best course seemed to be to send four of the Indians who had been brought back from France to their Iroquois kinsmen with a suitable message. They were despatched accordingly, accompanied by an Indian named Gagniogoton who, a short time before, had come to Montreal as a kind of ambassador, but whose tone had been more insolent than concil[238]iatory. The returned warriors were to invite their people "to come and welcome their father whom they had so long missed, and thank him for his goodness to them in restoring a chief whom they had given up as lost,"[37] namely Orehaoué. The latter did not accompany the mission, Frontenac considering that he would be more useful for the present at Montreal. It does not appear exactly when the envoys set out, but, after some delay, consequent upon prolonged deliberation on the part of the tribes, they returned to Montreal on the 9th March. It was evident the mission had not been a great success. The messengers came laden with belts of wampum, each of which had its own special significance, yet for several days they kept silence. Finally at the urgent request of M. de Callières—Frontenac had gone back to Quebec—they disburdened themselves of the messages with which they were charged. Belt number one was to explain that delay had been caused by the arrival of an Ottawa delegation among the Senecas with overtures of peace, as a pledge of which they had brought with them a number of Iroquois prisoners whom they were prepared to restore. The second belt was meant to express the joy of the whole Iroquois confederacy over the return of Orehaoué, whom they spoke of as their general-in-chief. The third demanded the return of Orehaoué and the other prisoners; and mentioned the fact that all th[239]e surviving French prisoners were at the chief town of the Onondagas, and that no disposition would be made of them till they should hear the advice of Orehaoué on his return home. The fourth congratulated Frontenac on his wish to plant again the tree of peace; but the fifth was the most expressive of all. Referring to the desire of Frontenac to bring them again to his fort, it said: "Know you not that the fire of peace no longer burns in that fort; that it is extinguished by the blood that has been spilt there; the place where the council is held is all red; it has been desecrated by the treachery perpetrated there." Fort Frontenac, it went on to say, was henceforth an impossible place for peaceful gatherings: if the tree of peace was again to be planted it must be in some other spot, nearer or more distant they did not care—only not there. Then these words were added: "In fine, Father Onontio, you have whipped your children most severely; your rods were too cutting and too long; and after having used me thus you can readily judge that I have some sense now." The sixth belt mentioned that there were parties now out on the war-path, but that they were prepared to spare their prisoners should they take any, if the French would agree to do the same on their side. There was no lack of frankness in the further information conveyed by this belt, which was to the effect that the Onondagas had received eight prisoners as their share of the prisoners taken at La Chesnaye, and had eaten four of them, and[240] spared the other four. This was intended to show their superiority in humanity to the French, who, having taken three Seneca prisoners, had eaten them all, that is to say, allowed their Indian allies to kill and eat them, instead of sparing one or two. To what incident this refers is not clear, as Denonville did not report any prisoners taken in his fight with the Senecas.

Callières sent the deputation down to Quebec to see the governor-general; but the latter, according to the account here followed, which was written by his own secretary, Monseignat, declined to give them an audience, mainly on account of the objection he had to their spokesman, Gagniogoton. Doubtless Callières had informed him sufficiently of the tenor of the communications they had to make. The governor had much on his mind, but he was not a man to act in nervous haste. Towards the close of the month of December, a man named Zachary Jolliet arrived at Quebec from Michilimackinac, having been despatched by La Durantaye to represent the perilous nature of the situation there owing to the very unsatisfactory dispositions of the Lake tribes. The massacre of Lachine with all its attendant circumstances had convinced them that French power was at a very low ebb. As the narrative says: "They saw nothing on our part but universal supineness; our houses burnt; our people carried off; the finest portion of our country ruined; and all done without any one being moved; or, at least, if any attempts[241] were made, the trifling effort recoiled to our shame." Yet what the French, individually, were capable of may be judged by the fact that this messenger, with only one companion, had come all the way from Michilimackinac at a most inclement season of the year, partly in a canoe and partly on the ice, reaching Quebec at the very end of December. Surely some benumbing influence must have been at work upon the colony. Was it the extreme mediævalism of the Denonville régime aided by an excessive use of intoxicating liquors? These at least were veræ causæ, and might well have had no small share in creating the situation described.

Something had to be done, and that speedily, to strengthen La Durantaye's position, or the French of the Upper Lakes would virtually find themselves hostages in the hands of disaffected tribes; if indeed their lives were not sacrificed to cement the union which the Ottawas were even then endeavouring to effect with the Iroquois. Frontenac wanted to send Zachary Jolliet back at once with instructions; but it was learnt that the route was infested by Iroquois; very unwillingly, therefore, he deferred action till the breaking of the ice in the spring. He then despatched M. de Louvigny, with a hundred and forty-three Canadians and a small number of Indians, to strengthen the garrison and relieve La Durantaye. With this contingent went a man well known to all the region, and probably second to none in his ability to influence[242] the native mind, Nicolas Perrot. The count did not, however, entrust Perrot with any merely verbal message, but placed in his hands a written one, conceived in the style of which he had acquired so great a mastery. "Children," said Onontio, "I am astonished to learn on arriving that you have forgotten the protection I always afforded you. Remember that I am your father, who adopted you, and who has loved you so tenderly. I gave you your country; I drove the horrors of war far from it, and introduced peace there. You had no home before that. You were wandering about exposed to the Iroquois tempests. Hark, I speak to you as a father. My body is big; it is strong and cannot die. Think you I am going to remain in a state of inactivity such as prevailed during my absence; and, if eight or ten hairs have been pulled from my children's heads when I was absent, that I cannot put ten handfuls of hair in the place of one that has been torn out? or that, for one piece of bark that has been stripped from my cabin, I cannot put double the number in its place? Children, know that I always am, that nothing but the Great Spirit can destroy me, and that it is I who destroy all." The message went on to refer to the Iroquois as a ravenous dog who formerly was snapping and biting at every one, but whom Frontenac had tamed and tied up, and whom he would discipline again if he did not mend his ways. The blood shed at Montreal last summer, it said, was of no account; the houses destroyed[243] were only two or three rat holes. The English were not people to have confidence in; they deceived and devoured their children. "I am strong enough to kill the English, destroy the Iroquois, and whip you if you fail in your duty to me." Finally there was a warning against the use of English rum, which was killing in its effects, whereas French brandy was health-giving.

What the effect of this allocution would have been, unsupported by favouring circumstances, it is difficult to say. The Indian tribes all had a remarkable gift of perspicacity. They had no need of Dr. Johnson's advice to clear their minds of cant, for cant was something quite foreign to their mental habits; it was not a product of forest life. It happened, however, that Perrot was able to show them a number of Iroquois scalps, and hand over to them an Iroquois prisoner that his party had taken on their journey up the Ottawa. This looked like business, and lent a weight which might otherwise have been lacking to the somewhat fustian eloquence of Onontio. The affair of the capture had happened in this wise. As the expedition neared the place now known as Sand Point, on the river Ottawa, they discovered two Iroquois canoes drawn up at the end of the point. Three canoes were detached to attack the enemy, but were received with a heavy fire from an ambush on the shore, by which four Frenchmen were killed. Perrot, who thought it much more important to accomplish his mission among the[244] Ottawas than to have even a successful fight with the Iroquois, did not at first wish to push the matter further; but his men were full of fight, and he finally allowed a general attack to be made, which resulted most successfully. More than thirty Iroquois, the narrative says, were killed, and many more were wounded. Out of thirteen canoes only four escaped. Two prisoners were taken. One of these was sent to Quebec and was used by Frontenac to help out his negotiations with their nation; the other was taken to Michilimackinac. His fate was not a pleasant one. Perrot gave him to the Hurons, and by so doing made the Ottawas a little jealous. Both Ottawas and Hurons were at the time meditating an alliance with the Iroquois, and the Hurons thought they could make good use of their prisoner as a peace-offering. The French, however, were not going to have any nonsense of that kind. The commanders conferred with the missionaries, and finally a hint was dropped to the Hurons that, if they did not put their prisoner "into the kettle," he would be taken from them and given to the Ottawas. That settled the question; the unhappy prisoner was put to death with the customary tortures, and all chance of peace between Hurons and Iroquois was thus destroyed. What the Ottawas might do still remained uncertain. Frontenac's message had by no means wholly won them over to the French alliance. They had heard of the warfare Onontio was waging agains[245]t the English, and thought they would await developments.

That war had been going merrily on in its own fashion, and Perrot was able to give an account of the success of the principal expedition—the one directed against Albany—for it had returned to Montreal after doing its bloody work nearly two months before he left for the Upper Lakes.[38] The story of the three war parties must now be woven into our narrative. The one just mentioned started from Montreal on one of the first days in February (1690). The Indians of the party had not been informed what their destination was. When they learned that the intention was to attack Albany, they inquired with surprise how long it was since the French had become so bold. Like the Indians of the West, they had drawn their own conclusions from the events of the previous year. They were not disposed to join in so hazardous an undertaking; and it is allowable, perhaps, to doubt whether it was at any time seriously contemplated to make Albany the point of attack. If it was, the leaders changed their minds, for on coming to a point where the roads to that place and to Corlaer or Schenectady diverged, they took t[246]he latter. The difficulties of the march were extreme. Though it was yet midwinter, more or less thaw prevailed, and during much of the journey the men had to walk knee-deep in water. Then on the last day or two came a blast of excessive cold. A few miles from Corlaer the expedition was halted, and the chief man of the Christian Mohawks harangued his people. The opportunity had now come, he said, for taking ample revenge for all the injuries they had received from the heathen Iroquois at the instigation of the English, and to wash them out in blood. This Indian known as the Great Mohawk, or in French as the Grand Agnié, is described in the official narrative as "the most considerable of his tribe, an honest man, full of spirit, prudence, and generosity, and capable of the greatest undertakings." The little army was in wretched plight, and probably, had they been attacked at this point by even a small force of men in good condition, they would have been completely routed. No such attack, however, was made. Marching a little further, they found a wigwam occupied only by four squaws. There was a fire in it, and, benumbed with cold, they crowded round it in turns. At eleven o'clock at night they were in sight of the town, but in order that they might take the inhabitants in their deepest sleep, they deferred the attack for three hours; then they burst in through an open gate in the palisade. The official account says, in very simple words, that "the massacre lasted two hours."[247] This, be it remembered, was supposed to be regular warfare, not between savage Indians, or between French and Indians, but between French and English. War, as already stated, had been declared between France and England, and this was Frontenac's method of carrying on his part of it. When New England retaliated later in the year by the attack on Quebec, we can hardly wonder that some of the inhabitants of that city anticipated a general massacre should the English obtain possession of the town. The special enormities alleged to have been committed by the heathen Iroquois in the massacre at Lachine are, by witnesses who made their statements within a few days after the event, affirmed to have been perpetrated by the Christian Indians at Schenectady. Sixty persons in all were killed, thirty-eight being men and boys, ten women, and twelve children of tender age.[39] Many were wounded, thirty were carried away captive. The chief magistrate of the place, John Sanders Glen by name, lived outside the town in a palisaded and fortified dwelling, which he was prepared to defend. He was known, however, to the French commanders as a man who had always been favourable to their people, having on several occasions rescued French prisoners from the[248] Mohawks, over whom he had great influence. On being assured that his life and property would be spared, he surrendered. It was also agreed to extend the same immunity to any of his relatives who might have survived the massacre; and the number of persons claiming the privilege was so great as to cause the Indians to express some surprise and ill-humour at the wide range of his family connection.

The homeward march was begun a day or two later. It was by no means a prosperous one. Early in the attack a man on horseback had escaped through the eastern gate of the town, and, though shot at and wounded, was able to make his way to Albany and give the alarm. Thence word was sent on to the Mohawk towns, and the warriors, accompanied by a detachment of fifty young men from Albany, started on the track of the retreating foe. Two only on the French side had been killed in the attack on Schenectady, but before the party reached Montreal, their losses amounted to twenty-one, seventeen French, and four Indians. The opinion of the Mohawk Indians on the character of the expedition was expressed in a message of sympathy which they sent to the authorities at Albany. "The French," they said, "did not act on this occasion like brave men, but like thieves and robbers. Be not discouraged, we give this belt to wipe away your tears. We do not think what the French have done can be called a victory. It is only a further proof of th[249]eir cruel deceit."[40]

The expedition organized at Three Rivers left that place on the 28th January; but it was not till after two months' wanderings in the inhospitable wilderness that they were able to strike their first blow. The New England frontier had for a year past been in a very disturbed and precarious condition owing to a renewed outbreak of hostilities on the part of the Abenaquis Indians. A long period of previous warfare with these tribes had been closed by the Treaty of Casco in 1678, but now the frontier was again aflame. The English settlers attributed the trouble to the machinations of the French with whom the Abenaquis were in close alliance; and certain it is that the Marquis of Denonville, in a memorandum written after his return to France, takes credit to himself for the mischief done. He speaks of the progress made in christianizing the Abenaquis, and of the establishment near Quebec of two colonies of them which he thought would prove useful. He then proceeds: "To the close relations which I maintained with these savages through the Jesuits, and particularly the two brothers Bigot, may be attributed the success of the attacks which they made upon the English last summer when they captured sixteen forts besides that of Pemaquid, where there were twenty cannon, and killed two hundred men."[41] The ex-governor exaggerates the [250]number of cannon in the fort at Pemaquid, as there were only seven or eight, and omits to mention the fact that, after that place had surrendered on the promise that the lives of all in it should be spared, a number were murdered by his Indians. That they were not also tortured, Father Thury, who was with the attacking party, attributes to the influence of his exhortations. M. Lorin, in giving an account of the occurrence, says there is no doubt that the Abenaquis were impelled by their missionary, the Abbé Thury. He quotes the statement of Charlevoix that, before setting out, their first care had been to make sure of the divine assistance, by partaking of the sacrament. "Certainly," he says, "the part taken by the missionaries in expeditions of this character, was a preponderating one." He also ventures the theory that, as the heathen Iroquois never penetrated into New England, the only enemies of the faith upon whom the missionaries could exercise the zeal of their Abenaquis converts were the English.[42]

The fighting along the frontier lasted all through the summer and autumn of 1689. The winter brought respite from attack, and the settlers were beginning to indulge a sense of security when Hertel and his fifty men crept up to the little settlement of Salmon Falls, on[251] the borders of New Hampshire and Maine. The attack was made in very similar fashion to that at Schenectady. The assailants burst in at night and at once began to apply tomahawk and torch. Thirty persons, men, women, and children indiscriminately, were slaughtered, and fifty-four were made prisoners. Hearing that a force of English from Piscataqua, now Portsmouth, was hastening to the scene, Hertel ordered a retreat. At Wooster River the pursuers caught up with him, but, taking up an advantageous position on the far side of that stream, he held them in check, killing several as they tried to cross the narrow bridge. At night he resumed his retreat. Some of the prisoners were given to his Indians to torture and kill. It was unfortunate that Father Thury was not present to inspire milder sentiments in these converts.

Hertel was a born fighter, and when, upon reaching one of the Abenaquis villages on the Kennebec, he learnt that the Quebec party under M. de Portneuf had just passed south, he determined to follow them with thirty-six of his men, though he was obliged to leave behind him his eldest son who had been badly wounded in the fight at Wooster River. A number of Indian warriors joined the party at a point on the Kennebec; and on the 25th May, the united force, numbering between four and five hundred men, encamped in the forest not far from the English forts on Casco Bay. The principal of these was[252] Fort Loyal, a palisaded place mounting eight cannon. The others were simple blockhouses. The several garrisons consisted of about one hundred men under the command of Captain Sylvanus Davis, whose narrative in the original—and most original—spelling has come down to us. The garrison first knew that an enemy was at hand by hearing the war-whoop of the Indians, who had just scalped an unfortunate Scotsman found wandering about in the neighbourhood, all unconscious of danger. Thirty volunteers at once sallied forth from the fort to meet the foe. They had not gone far when they received a volley at close range which killed half of them. Of the remaining half only four reached the fort, all wounded. During the night the men in the blockhouses crept into the fort, together with the inhabitants of some neighbouring houses. The place could not be carried by assault, so Portneuf determined to besiege it in due form by opening trenches and working his way in. The work was well and rapidly done, and Davis saw that surrender was inevitable. He inquired if there were any French in the attacking force, and, if so, whether they would give quarter. The answer was affirmative on both points. Davis inquired whether the quarter would include men, women, and children, wounded and unwounded, and whether they would all be allowed to retire to the nearest English town. This was agreed to and sworn to; but, no sooner had the occupants of the fort filed out, than t[253]he Indians fell upon them, killed a number, and made prisoners of the rest. Davis protested, but he was told that he and his people were rebels against their lawful king, and therefore without any claim to consideration. The captives, Davis among them, were carried off to Quebec, where they arrived about the middle of June. The fort was burned, the guns were spiked, the neighbouring settlements destroyed, and the dead left unburied.

Thus had Frontenac's expeditions fared. They had spread grief and alarm amongst the English settlements, but had inflicted no serious blow on English power. They had shown how expert the colonial French had become in the methods of Indian warfare, and also to how large an extent they had themselves inbibed the Indian spirit. We may doubt whether Frontenac philosophized much on the subject; his immediate object was to produce an effect on the minds of his wavering Indian allies and his sullen Indian enemies; and the raids into English territory, with the slaughterings and burnings, were doubtless well adapted to that purpose. If Onontio was strong enough and bold enough to make war in this fashion on Corlaer and Kishon [43] at once, there was something for allies, and enemies as well, to reflect on. This view of the matter finally prevailed with[254] the Lake tribes. For some two or three years trade had been almost at a standstill, and furs had accumulated which the savages were now anxious to turn into European goods. With one accord they determined to try the Montreal market once more, and see Onontio face to face.

During the winter, while his guerrilla forces were in the field, Frontenac had not been idle. Having arranged for offensive measures, he next took thought for defensive ones; and, as if with a prevision that Quebec itself might not be exempt from attack, he devoted special attention to strengthening the fortifications of that place. He caused a vast amount of timber to be cut for palisades, with which he protected the city at the rear, its only weak point. In the spring he began the erection of a strong stone redoubt; and the work was pushed with so much vigour that by midsummer it was well advanced towards completion. These pressing occupations did not, however, absorb all his thoughts. The fact of his having been chosen a second time by the king for the governorship of Canada, notwithstanding all the criticism of which he had formerly been the object, gave him a position of manifest strength, which even his bitterest opponents of former days could not ignore. The Sovereign Council as a whole recognized the fact, and was anxious to arrange matters so as, if possible, to avoid friction for the future.[255]

The governor on his part was determined to preserve an attitude of dignified, not to say haughty, reserve, and throw upon the council the task of making such advances as might be necessary. In pursuance of this policy, he refrained from attending the meetings, though his presence was much required. The council having deputed Auteuil, the attorney-general, to wait upon him and invite his attendance, he replied that the council should be able to manage its own business and that he would come when he thought the king's service required it. It is hard to understand why Auteuil should have been chosen for this negotiation; for Frontenac must have had a vivid recollection of the insolence with which he had been treated during his first administration by this individual, then a raw youth of not much over twenty. The next move of the council was to send four of their number to repeat the invitation, and to ask the governor at the same time with what ceremonies he would wish to be received. His answer was that if they would propose the form he would tell them whether it was satisfactory. The council felt that the governor was pushing his advantage a little too far; but nevertheless they applied themselves to the question, and, having devised a form which they thought could not fail to be acceptable, sent Villeray, the first councillor, to the château to explain what was proposed. Villeray was as deferential and complimentary as he knew how; but the end was not yet. "See the bishop, and any other parties who have knowled[256]ge of such matters, and get their opinion," said the governor. The bishop was consulted accordingly, but very properly declined to give any opinion. Thrown back on their own resources the councillors devised the following scheme: that, when his Lordship, the count, should decide to make his first visit to the council, four of its members should present themselves at the château in order to accompany him to the place of meeting, which was the intendant's palace on the bank of the St. Charles; and that, on all subsequent occasions, he should be met by two councillors at the head of the stairs and respectfully conducted to his seat. This was duly explained by the first councillor, Villeray, who said he was authorized to add that any modification of the plan which the governor might suggest would be gladly adopted by the council. This was submission indeed, yet still the count hesitated. He asked to see the minutes of the council in which the resolution bearing on the matter was recorded. Villeray struggled up Palace Hill with the official register, and presented himself again before the potentate, who found the entry in good shape, but reserved his final answer. A few days later, having been again waited on, he graciously informed the deputation that the arrangement proposed was quite satisfactory. With what must really be called a fatuous self-complacency, he added that, had the council wished to go too far in the way of obsequiousness, he could not have consented to it, as, being hims[257]elf its head, he was jealous of its dignity and honour. If for some men there is, as the poet hints, "a far-off touch of greatness" in knowing they are not great, it is to be feared Frontenac did not possess that particular touch.

Not only were the fortifications of Quebec strengthened, but steps were also taken to form a local militia guard under the command of the town-major, Prevost. Leaving to that officer the supervision of whatever work was still required on the defences, Frontenac, accompanied by the intendant and Madame Champigny, left the capital on the 22nd July for Montreal, where his presence was much required. He probably did some inspection of posts on the way, for he did not reach the end of his journey till the 31st. Trade at this time was pretty much at a standstill. Bands of mission Indians were on the war-path against the English; and every now and again the Iroquois would swoop down on the settlements, notwithstanding the fact that scouts were kept continually employed along the routes by which they were accustomed to make their approaches. Under the new administration the lesson of Lachine, the lesson of eternal watchfulness, was being taken to heart. The governor had much to occupy his thoughts. At Montreal, as at Quebec, he was anxious to perfect the organization of the military forces, and to place the city, from every point of view, in the best possible condition of defence. He had not as yet received news as to[258] how Louvigny and Perrot had succeeded among the Lake tribes; yet upon the success of their mission hung the most momentous issues. Was Canada to secure allies in the West who would hold at least in partial check the Iroquois power, or were Hurons, Ottawas, Iroquois, and English to combine their forces for her destruction? Meantime bad news had come from Acadia. Port Royal and other fortified posts had been captured; the English were in possession of the entire country; the governor had been carried captive to Boston. It was known that the English of Albany and New York were moving: what the next news would be, who could tell?

On the 18th August news came. In hot haste the officer in command at Lachine had despatched a messenger to say that Lake St. Louis to the west was covered with Iroquois canoes bearing down on the island. The terror of the inhabitants, in spite of the presence of the governor amongst them, was extreme. Orders were given to fire alarm guns to warn the inhabitants of the surrounding country; and other measures of protection were being hastily concerted, when a second messenger arrived to say that it was all a mistake. It was not the dreaded Iroquois who were close at hand, but a large body of Lake Indians who were coming to trade. Fear was at once turned into joy. The envoys sent to the upper country in May had been successful; a great danger had been averted. Perrot with his scalps and Frontenac with his[259] vigorous and aggressive, if somewhat primitive and ruthless, war policy had turned the scale in favour of Canada. Firm alliances would now be made, and there would be a big market at Montreal.

The next day the canoes, laden with the accumulated furs of the last two or three years, shot the Lachine Rapids and landed at Montreal. There were about five hundred Indians in all, Hurons, Ottawas, Crees, Ojibways, and various other tribes, all bent on buying, selling, and negotiating. It was not the habit, however, of these savages to enter precipitately on any kind of business; and three days were allowed to elapse before they opened their great council at which, tribe by tribe, they were to lay their views before the governor. The first to speak were the Ottawas, and their talk was almost exclusively of trade. Their instinct for business was keen, and had it been possible they would probably have steered clear of politics. They had had some experience of the low prices of English goods, and were very insistent that the French should deal with them on equally favourable terms. The spokesman of the Hurons, a much weaker tribe numerically, was not so narrowly commercial in his views. He said he had come down to see his father, to listen to his voice, and to do his will. He presented three belts. By the first he prayed that the war might be prosecuted against the Iroquois as well as against the English. If not, he feared he and[260] his father would both die. The second thanked the count for his former services to their nation. The third prayed him to take pity on the Ottawas, and give them good bargains. Such a manifestation of interest in the Ottawas was very touching; but probably the Huron orator, whose people had a certain reputation for subtlety, calculated that, if a lower tariff were made for the Ottawas, all would get the benefit of it. On the twenty-fifth of the month, the count entertained them all at a great feast. Two oxen and six large dogs furnished the meat, which was cooked with prunes. Two barrels of wine were provided to wash this down, and liberal rations of tobacco were served out to every man. Before the feasting began, the count stood up to address his guests. He assured them that he meant to prosecute the war with the Iroquois until he had brought it to a successful issue, and forced them to sue for peace. Then, when peace was made, it should be a general peace: all should be included in it, and the Iroquois themselves would again be his children. Meantime, however, they were preparing to invade the country; and the question was whether to await their arrival or go to meet them. Then ensued a remarkable performance, which might well have employed a livelier pen than that of Monseignat who gives us the account of it. Seizing a hatchet, the aged governor, war-worn but yet fiery and vigorous, began to sing the war song, walking to and fro in the most excited manner,[261] and brandishing the hatchet over his head in true Indian fashion. The effect was electric. The old Onontio was surpassing himself. Here was a leader whose very presence banished fear. When he had sufficiently excited their admiration, and stimulated their warlike ardour, he handed the hatchet to the different chiefs in turn, and to a number of Frenchmen, who all imitated Onontio's example, vowing vengeance on the foe. Then began the feast, a function to which it is needless to say the savage guests brought ravenous appetites. In diplomacy dinners have been known to work wonders; and Frontenac was seeking the hearts of his guests through a well-recognized channel.

We have seen that the mission sent by the governor to the Iroquois towards the close of the previous year, and which returned in the following month of March, had not accomplished any satisfactory result. The count waited till navigation was open before resuming negotiations. He then determined to restore to their nation the four returned Iroquois who had formed his first embassy, and to make them the bearers of belts which he hoped would speak strongly in favour of peace. With these Indians he sent a French gentleman, the Chevalier d'Eau. He tendered the mission in the first place to the gay and dashing Baron La Hontan; but that young man, who was well versed in the classics, was afraid of the Iroquois even when carrying gifts to them; and,[262] with marked discretion, declined the honour. The Chevalier d'Eau had no reason to congratulate himself on having accepted it. He made his appearance amongst the Iroquois at a most unfavourable moment. The affair at Schenectady was fresh in their recollection; and though their own people had, through motives of policy, been spared on that occasion, they were under a strong pledge to the English to assist in revenging the slaughter. A couple of Frenchmen who accompanied the chevalier were burnt; he himself was soundly thrashed and handed over as a prisoner to the English; the messages of the belts were disregarded. No news of the fate of the envoy had reached Frontenac up to the time of the gathering of the western Indians at Montreal; but after their departure the facts concerning them were obtained from some Iroquois prisoners at Fort Frontenac. The one great gain of the year had been the winning over of the Lake tribes, a result which at once assured the safety of the French traders and missionaries in the West, and prevented that isolation of the colony which would have followed had an alliance been struck between those tribes and the Iroquois.

CHAPTER X

FRONTENAC DEFENDER OF CANADA

In planning his attacks on the English colonies it does not appear that Frontenac took specially into account the political disorganization existing amongst them at the time, or built his hopes of success to any extent on that circumstance. It is nevertheless true that, if his object had been to strike at a moment of unpreparedness and weakness, he could not have timed his operations better. The rule of James II and his agents had been borne with no little reluctance by his subjects in North America, and particularly by those of New England, and when news came of his expulsion from the throne, his flight from England, and the arrival and coronation of the Prince of Orange and his wife (daughter of James II) as king and queen, there was at once a popular movement both at Boston and at New York to seize the government, and hold it subject to the orders of the new sovereigns. Sir Edmund Andros was governor of New England at the time, with authority over the province of New York, Boston being the chief seat of government, and the governor being represented at New York by a lieutenant-governor, one Francis Nicholson. Andros had been appointed governor of New York, by James, then Duke of York, to whom the province had been patented in 1674, an[264]d had held the office till 1681, when he was replaced by Colonel Dongan of epistolary fame. His recall was consequent upon complaints that had been made by the colonists of various arbitrary acts on his part; but on his arrival in England he managed to defend himself successfully, and in 1686, James being now on the throne, he was sent out again with the larger jurisdiction we have mentioned.

Religious passions in those days ran high; and Andros, who was a strong churchman, soon found himself on worse terms with the puritanical population of Boston than he had been with the more heterogeneous and less rigid inhabitants of New York. The circumstances of the time, it must be confessed, were such as to excuse a somewhat sensitive condition of public feeling. Two years before the arrival of Andros, the Court of Chancery of England had declared null and void the charter granted to the colony of Massachusetts in the year 1629, which, from that date onwards, had been the basis, not only of all government, but of all land grants, transfers of property, and popular liberties generally. A provisional government, under one Joseph Dudley had succeeded. Then had come Andros, commissioned by a king who was far from commanding the unlimited confidence of his subjects at home, and who was looked upon with at least equal distrust by the ultra-Protestants of his American dominions. How long they were going to be deprived of legally guaranteed liberti[265]es there was no knowing, nor what the intentions of James II might be in regard to their beloved commonwealth. They did not think it impossible he might wish to hand them over to his close ally the King of France; and in Andros they feared they saw only too meet an instrument for stratagems and spoils. The instructions given to him as governor contained a special injunction to favour by all means in his power the rites and doctrines of the Church of England; and the colonists, with the exception of a small minority, were maddened to see public taxes applied to this hateful object. As the Indians were giving trouble, the governor made a campaign against them in the summer of 1688, which was not very successful; hence more odium gathered on his head. Having failed in his measures of offence he thought he would at least provide for defence, and garrisoned the forts on the frontier with six hundred men, chiefly militia. More discontent: the garrisons served unwillingly, and the people at home professed to believe that such measures were unnecessary. A small detachment of soldiers had come out with Andros. Their conduct, according to contemporary accounts, was most unedifying and in shocking contrast to the unrelenting rigour and formality of colonial piety. It is not surprising therefore that, when, in April 1689, news was brought that James II, whose commission Andros bore, was no longer king, but that the leader of European Protestantism reigned in his stead, there shoul[266]d have been an instant uprising of the populace against his representative. Andros was seized and imprisoned with fifty of his followers. "For seven weeks," says a contemporary writer, "there was not so much as the face of any government." A vessel having arrived towards the end of May with instructions to proclaim William and Mary, certain of the members of the former General Council assumed to act, and one of their number, the aged Simon Bradstreet, was named as governor.

It did not take long for the news to travel from Boston to New York. The condition of things there was different; public opinion was not in the same state of exasperation as at Boston; still Andros was of old unpopular, and after a little hesitation, a movement was organized, headed by one Jacob Leisler, to take the government out of the hands of the lieutenant-governor, Nicholson. Like his superior officer at Boston, the latter was obliged to submit; and Leisler, most unhappily for himself and his family, assumed, with the support of a committee of citizens, the control of affairs. Thus, both in New England and in New York, there supervened a period of divided councils and enfeebled administration, and this at the precise moment when the colonies were about to encounter new perils. The provisional government of New England, in blind opposition to the policy of Sir Edmund Andros, withdrew or greatly reduced the garrisons he had wisely established along the frontier. If Leisler could have got h[267]is authority recognized at Albany he would have sent forces for the defence of the northern part of the province. There was a party there in his favour; but the magistrates, though quite ready to pay allegiance to William and Mary, thought Leisler's credentials of too dubious a character to justify their negotiating with him. Between divided responsibility and irresponsibility, the difference is not great. News had been received that the French were meditating mischief, but no proper precautionary measures were taken. To this condition of unpreparedness the horrible disaster of Schenectady may be distinctly attributed, and probably those at Salmon Falls and Casco Bay as well.

Even after the mischief was done, it was extremely difficult to secure any harmonious or well-directed action. A strong appeal was sent by the magistrates of Albany to the governor and council of Massachusetts, representing their own deplorable condition of weakness, and asking that New England should undertake the serious enterprise of invading Canada by water. That was a matter for grave consideration, and one, the authorities of Massachusetts thought, in which, if they attempted it at all, they should have the assistance of the Mother Country. They despatched a vessel in April to England with a request for help; but meantime, spurred by their own wrongs and sufferings, they determined to take an easier revenge on the French by invad[268]ing Acadia. Early in the month of May 1690 the different New England colonies sent delegates to a congress held at New York for the purpose of deciding on a military policy. The conclusion come to was that there should be both a land and a sea expedition, the first directed against Montreal, the second against Quebec. To the former New York was to contribute four hundred men and the New England colonies jointly three hundred and fifty-five. The Iroquois, it was expected, would add a powerful contingent. The naval expedition, it was proposed, should be provided entirely by the New England colonies. The Massachusetts delegates hesitated to commit themselves to so extensive and costly a scheme, but finally agreed to undertake it, relying on assistance from the Mother Country, which, in existing circumstances, they hardly thought could be refused. Meantime the expedition against Acadia could be pushed forward.

French Acadia had at all times been much exposed to attacks from the English colonies. The settlers were few in number—at this time not much over a thousand all told—and their defences were but feeble. In 1654, in accordance with secret orders sent by Cromwell, the territory had been seized by an English force from Boston under the command of Major Robert Sedgwick and Captain John Leverett. Two years later it was made a province, Sir Thomas Temple being appointed governor. After remaining in the[269] possession of the English for a period of thirteen years, it was ceded back to France by the Treaty of Breda in 1667. Five years later Frontenac arrived in Canada for the first time, and in the following year, 1673, M. de Chambly, a very capable soldier, whose services had been highly appreciated by the previous governor, M. de Courcelles, was sent to command in Acadia, and established himself at Pentagouet, a fortified post at the mouth of the river Penobscot. This was the extreme western limit of his jurisdiction even according to the French view of the matter. The New Englanders held that the true limit was the river St. Croix, the present boundary between the province of New Brunswick and the state of Maine. To the east Acadia embraced, by common consent, the southern part of what is now New Brunswick and all Nova Scotia west of the Straits of Canso.

M. de Chambly had not been more than a year in his new government when an attack was made on Pentagouet by a Flemish corsair conducted by a Boston pilot or ship captain. After a brief defence he was obliged to surrender, his force being very inferior, and he himself having been wounded. The attacking party then proceeded to the only other Acadian fort, Jemseg, on the river St. John, and captured it. M. de Chambly was taken as a prisoner to Boston, but was soon set at liberty and permitted to return to France. The attack gave rise to a strong protest on the pa[270]rt of Frontenac, and was wholly disavowed by the Massachusetts authorities. In the year 1676, M. de Chambly was sent out again from France with a royal commission as lieutenant-governor. He did not attempt to establish himself at Pentagouet, but for a time made his headquarters at Jemseg, and not long afterwards removed to Port Royal, now Annapolis, on the northern coast of Nova Scotia, which thus became the capital of Acadia. Here he remained till about the year 1679 or 1680, when he was transferred to the governorship of Grenada in the West Indies.

It was not till the autumn of 1684 that a duly appointed successor was provided in the person of M. François Perrot, who had finally been dismissed from the governorship of Montreal. In the interval there had been one or two descents on the Acadian coast, calling forth further protests on Frontenac's part, and further disclaimers of responsibility on that of the constituted authorities of New England. To fish in French waters or to trade with the inhabitants was considered an infraction of international law; and yet there is clear evidence that the French settlers rather longed than otherwise for the flesh-pots of Boston in the shape of English goods and English money, very much after the manner of the Iroquois and the Indian tribes of the West. When Perrot came to Port Royal he was pleased to find that the conditions there were nearly as favourable as at Montreal for the trading in which his soul[271] delighted. The chief difference was the substitution of Boston for New York as his commercial centre. In the fall of the year 1685, a few weeks after the arrival of the Marquis of Denonville, Meulles, the intendant, accompanied by a member of the Sovereign Council, Peyras, paid a visit of inspection to the country, remaining till the following summer. A carefully-made census showed that the total population amounted at that time to 885 souls, mustering 222 guns. Of cultivated land there were 896 acres. Horned cattle numbered 986, sheep 759, and pigs 608. Just as Meulles was leaving the country, the bishop designate, Saint Vallier, arrived on a pastoral visit. The account he gives of the people in his Etat présent de l'Eglise is most laudatory, and strangely at variance with a report made by Duchesneau, the intendant, a few years earlier. In 1681 that officer had written that the poverty of the people was not the most serious evil; "their discords are a much greater one. Among them there is neither order nor police; and those who are sent hence to command them pillage them." The future bishop, in 1689, saw things very differently. Although, he said, they had been deprived of spiritual instruction for many years, they did not seem to have suffered in the least thereby. Their morals were excellent; they were kindly and well-disposed, and were greatly rejoiced to learn that their spiritual interests were going to be better looked after in future. Of course they may have improved[272] in the eight years that had elapsed since M. Duchesneau made his report; or that not very genial individual may have needlessly darkened the picture; or, again, the worthy prelate may have thrown a little too much sunshine into it. It is satisfactory to learn that the result of Meulles's visit was the dismissal of Perrot, who, doubtless, was plundering the people. This time no other office was provided for him. He remained in the country, however, to do a little more trading, and was finally killed, it was reported, in a fight with some pirates. His successor was M. de Menneval, a good soldier and a man of character.

Such was the country on which Massachusetts had determined to make a descent. Seven vessels, carrying two hundred and eighty-five sailors, and four or five hundred militiamen, were commissioned for the expedition, which was put under the command of Sir William Phipps, "a rugged son of New England," as Parkman calls him. Phipps was, in truth, an early American example of a self-made man. His knighthood, as well as a comfortable fortune, had been won by adventurous and successful service at sea. One of his biographers tells us that he was born "at a despicable plantation on the river Kennebec." His early years were passed in sheep-tending. The attacks of the Indians drove him, in the year 1676, to Boston, where he applied himself to learning the trade of ship-building, and where he also married Mary Hull, widow of one John Hull, a[273] woman several years his senior and of much better education and social position than he. A year later we find him in command of a sailing vessel. A Spanish treasure vessel had been wrecked somewhere off the Bahamas some forty years before, and Phipps felt confident that if he were furnished with a suitable ship he could find the wreck and recover the treasure. He made an application to the English government, and was granted the use of a vessel called the Algier Rose. His first expedition was not successful; but on a second attempt he located the wreck, and by the aid of a diving-bell—a comparatively recent invention at the time—recovered treasure to the value of £300,000. He had next to face a mutiny on his vessel, which he only quelled by dint of personal courage and address. On reaching England he received as his own share of the booty £16,000; but James II further recognized his services by creating him a knight. This was in the summer of 1687. Phipps then returned to Boston, and was henceforth a man of substance and influence in the community.

The fleet under his command sailed from Nantasket about the 1st May, and on the 11th reached Port Royal. Menneval, the governor, had under his command a garrison consisting of not far short of one hundred men. The fort had also been provided with twenty cannon; but these, it appears, had not been mounted. Menneval must have judged that the place was incapable of defence, becaus[274]e, when summoned by Phipps to surrender, he complied without making any attempt at resistance. He stipulated that private property as well as the church should be respected, and that the garrison should be returned to France. Phipps might have insisted on surrender at discretion, as he clearly saw when he entered into possession of the fort; but as he had not done so, honour required that he should observe the terms he had made. This, unfortunately for his reputation, he did not do. Availing himself of the pretext afforded by the fact that some goods belonging to the king had been carried away from the fort and secreted in the woods, he proceeded to plunder the traders of the place and desecrate the church. It is one of his own men who writes: "We cut down the cross, pulled down their high altar, and broke their images." The inhabitants in general were promised security for life, liberty, and property, on condition of swearing allegiance to the English Crown, which they did with great alacrity. The fact was they had dealt so much with the New Englanders in the way of business that they had little prejudice against them, while they had been so much neglected by the French government, both politically and ecclesiastically, not to speak of being robbed by its agents, that their national feelings had been but little cultivated. Phipps had with him such a force as they had never seen before—seven hundred men; and the probability is that they hoped for greater quiet and surer protection [275]under English rule than, so far as they could see, they were likely to enjoy under that of France. Phipps seemed to have assumed that they would remain true to their new allegiance, for he did not leave any garrison in the country, but invited the people to govern themselves by means of a council consisting of six ordinary members and a president, whom he chose from amongst themselves. Acadia was now to rank as a colony of Massachusetts, which was thus affording the earliest example of American "imperialism," though in a liberal fashion.

While Phipps was taking possession of Port Royal, one of his officers, Captain Alden, had captured Saint-Castin's post at Pentagouet (Penobscot), after which, by orders of his chief, he sailed to the southern coast of what is now Nova Scotia, and seized the settlements of La Hève, Chedabucto, and one or two others. No resistance was made anywhere, and consequently no lives were lost. The conquest, such as it was, was a bloodless one. Bitter complaint, nevertheless, was made of the bad faith shown by the New England leader after the capture of Port Royal, and with good cause. A soldier's word in such a case should be absolutely inviolable. At the same time it is a memorable fact that men who might have sought to avenge the blood of kindred slain without warning in night attacks, such as those at Schenectady and Salmon Falls, or in violation of terms of surrender, as at Casco Bay, should have absolutely[276] refrained from bloodshed. The French account of the affair at Port Royal distinctly mentions that the New Englanders were bitterly resentful of the Salmon Falls massacre in particular; nevertheless it did not enter into their mind to follow the example of Hertel and his braves.

On the 30th May Phipps arrived at Boston, bringing with him as prisoners Menneval, fifty-nine French soldiers, and two priests. The "rugged son of New England" showed that he had the over-thrifty qualities which were formerly, more than to-day, associated with the "down-east" character. Menneval had entrusted him with his money, and Phipps refused to return it. He also appropriated a quantity of the French governor's clothing and other effects, which he showed the greatest reluctance to give up, though distinctly ordered to do so by the General Council of Massachusetts. Upon a repetition of the order in more emphatic terms, he restored a portion of the property, but could not be induced to make complete restitution. Successful generals are not always easy to confine within the bounds of strict legality. Phipps himself was a member of the General Council, having been elected thereto while absent in Acadia; and, as just before starting on the expedition, he had joined the church of the celebrated Cotton Mather, he possessed a combination "pull," as it would be denominated in these days—civil, religious, military, and doubtless social—which it must have been very difficult to overcome,[277] particularly in the unsettled condition of things then prevailing. Menneval, after being kept for a considerable time in confinement, was allowed to sail for France.

Massachusetts had not waited for the return of Phipps before taking in hand the more serious matter of the expedition against Quebec. It was hoped, as has already been mentioned, that some assistance would come from the Mother Country in time for a union of forces; but, should that hope be disappointed, New England had determined to proceed with the enterprise alone. The ease with which Acadia had been reduced to submission seemed to be a presage of success in the larger undertaking; and if Phipps could return with a respectable show of booty from so small an establishment as that of Port Royal, what might not be expected if so acquisitive a commander could get a chance at Quebec. Then there was the religious aspect of the case. The Puritan commonwealth would not dishonour God by doubting that they were the people, or that the Catholics of Canada were idolaters. With all the sound doctrine and scriptural worship on one side, and all the deadly error and superstitious practice on the other, how could Providence hesitate which cause to support? At the same time prayer was not considered superfluous, nor was it allowed to flag. "The wheel," as Cotton Mather expressed it, "was kept in continual motion"; and as they prayed they worked, th[278]ese sturdy Roundheads of the New World. Till well past midsummer Boston harbour was alive with preparation. The chief difficulty was to finance the enterprise. Previous Indian wars had exhausted the colony, and the treasury was well-nigh empty. The only thing to do was to pledge the public credit and raise a loan, which it was hoped might be liquidated, in great part, if not in whole, by the plunder of the enemy. Thirty vessels altogether were requisitioned for the expedition. Most were of small capacity; the largest was a West India trader named the Six Friends, carrying forty-four guns, and the second largest the John and Thomas, carrying twenty-six guns. The rest had little or no armament. Three vessels appear to have been contributed by the province of New York, one of which was a frigate of twenty-four guns, and the two others vessels of smaller size carrying eight and four guns respectively. The supply of ammunition was decidedly short; but it was hoped, almost up to the last moment, that some contribution in the way of warlike stores, if not in ships and men, would arrive from England. That hope was destined to be frustrated. It was the year when William III was carrying on his campaign in Ireland, while Queen Mary and her Privy Council were trying to control domestic disaffection. It was the terrible year of Beachy Head, when the combined English and Dutch fleets, under Torrington and Evertsen, were defeated by the French under Tourville, and[279] when the buoys at the mouth of the Thames were taken up to prevent the ships of the enemy from appearing before London. It is perhaps not much to be wondered at that, in a time of so much stress and perplexity, an appeal from a trans-Atlantic colony for assistance that could ill be spared should have received scant attention. No help was sent: the New Englanders were left to fight their own battles as William was fighting his.

Considering the resources of the colonies, it was no mean effort they were putting forth. Some hundreds of men volunteered for the expedition; but, the number being insufficient, a press was resorted to in order to make up the total required, namely, twenty-two hundred. Of these about three hundred were sailors, and the rest soldiers. Provisions for four months were taken on board, and the expedition, under the command of Phipps, sailed from Nantasket on the 9th August 1690.

What progress was being made in the meantime with the land expedition against Montreal in which New York was to take the lead? The answer must be, very poor progress indeed. At Boston there was a considerable measure of unity of action; in New York there was almost none. It had been agreed that Connecticut should furnish a contingent of troops, and that the whole expedition should be placed under the command of one of its officers, Fitz-John Winthrop, afterwards governor. Winthrop organized a force of[280] two or three hundred men, and started from Hartford for Albany on the 14th July. A week later he arrived at the latter town only to find everything in complete disorder. "I found," he says, "the design against Canada poorly contrived and little forwarded, all things confused and in no readiness or position for marching towards Canada; yet every one disorderly projecting something about it."[44] The Dutch displayed the greatest indifference in the matter, and the English, for want of any commanding influence or unquestioned authority, were irresolute and vacillating. There was no definite understanding with the Indians; and what help they were going to give was quite uncertain. Organizing his forces as best he could in these most disadvantageous circumstances, Winthrop set out from Albany on his march northwards. He had not gone far when he was overtaken by a despatch from the governor of Massachusetts and Connecticut, telling him that the fleet was in readiness to sail. Eager to do his part in the combined operations, Winthrop pressed on and encamped at Wood Creek at the southern extremity of Lake Champlain. Here smallpox broke out among the troops; disagreements arose with the Indians; and, to make matters still worse, the provisions which should have been pushed on from Albany failed to arrive. After waiting several days in inactivity, Winthrop [281]became persuaded that an advance to Montreal with the body of his troops was out of the question. He allowed the mayor of Albany, Captain John Schuyler, to go on with a small detachment, while he with the rest of his force, largely consisting of sick men, returned to Albany. All that Schuyler succeeded in doing was to perpetrate a rather ignoble raid upon the hamlet of Laprairie near Montreal, where he killed ten or twelve of the inhabitants, destroyed the farms and the cattle, and made a number of prisoners, including some women. As an act of retaliation for Schenectady it was a feeble performance; as an act of war it was not a heroic exploit. Winthrop, before the month of September closed, marched back to Hartford, and thus ended the New York expedition. Clearly, if anything effective is to be done against Canada, the Boston men must do it.

The fleet sailed, as already mentioned, on the 9th August. The admiral's pennon floated from the Six Friends, the vice-admiral's from the John and Thomas. The vice-admiral for the occasion was Major John Walley; the third in command, apparently, was a Major Thomas Savage. Had the winds been favourable, the expedition might easily have reached Quebec within a month. They were most unfavourable, however; and it was not till the 3rd October that it arrived off Tadousac. Here the ships were brought to anchor, and a council of war was held. Four days later the fleet had only advanced fifty miles, and it took eight days mor[282]e to reach a point off the Island of Orleans near the present village of St. Jean, where it anchored for a few hours. Here Walley proposed that the men, who had been for weeks confined on shipboard, should be allowed to land and "refresh themselves," and that opportunity should be taken to form the several companies, and get everything into perfect order before proceeding to an attack. He was overruled however; and, taking advantage of a rising tide, the fleet slipped up the river, and at daybreak on Monday the 16th October made its appearance in the harbour of Quebec.

We have seen that, during the month of August and part of the month of September Frontenac was engaged at Montreal with his western Indians. It was during this time that Schuyler made his attack on Laprairie. After the departure of the Indians, Frontenac remained in Montreal to complete his measures for the defence of the country, and hoping also to get news of his embassy to the Iroquois. His return to Quebec was fixed for the 10th October, and on the afternoon of that very day a messenger who had been sent post haste by Prevost, the major in command of the troops at Quebec, placed in his hands two letters. The first, dated the 5th October, told him that an Abenaquis Indian had arrived at Quebec from the neighbourhood of Pentagouet deputed by his tribe to bring important news obtained from a captive New England woman, namely that, about six weeks before, a considerable fleet had sa[283]iled from Boston for the capture of Quebec. The second letter, written later on the same day, said that one Sieur de Cannanville had arrived from Tadousac, where he had seen twenty-four ships, eight of which appeared of considerable size.

It does not say much for Frontenac's intelligence department, if such an institution existed in that day, that he should have known nothing of the preparations which had been going on in Boston during the previous spring and summer. His first impulse was to disbelieve the news now brought, but none the less he lost no time in starting for Quebec with the intendant, Champigny. The first boat he embarked in proved leaky, and came near foundering. He transhipped into a canoe, and went as far as was possible before dark. On the afternoon of the next day a further message was received from Prevost confirming his first, and saying that the enemy had captured, about thirty leagues below Quebec, a vessel in which were two ladies. This looked serious, and the count sent back Captain de Ramesay to Montreal with orders to Callières, the governor, to march to Quebec at once with all the troops he could gather at Montreal or pick up on the way. He himself made all possible haste, and arrived at Quebec at ten o'clock in the morning of Saturday, the 14th October.

Work on the fortifications of Quebec had been more or less in progress all summer; but from the moment that the first news of the intended attack[284] had been received, Prevost had been particularly active in planting batteries, digging trenches, and doing other work of immediate necessity. He had also despatched a long-boat and a canoe, both well armed, under the charge of his brother-in-law, Grandville, to make a reconnaissance in the direction of Tadousac, and had sent orders to the militia captains of the neighbouring parishes of Beauport and Beaupré, and also to those on the Island of Orleans, to hold their men in readiness to march into the city, and meantime to watch the enemy, that they might offer all possible opposition to his landing. Frontenac employed his time on the 14th and 15th in examining and perfecting the general system of defence; and he was much pleased as well as surprised to find how much Prevost had accomplished in a few days. Two principal batteries had been established in the Upper Town, one, consisting of eight guns, to the right of the château, and one of three guns on the rock overlooking Mountain Hill known as Sault au Matelot. Two batteries of three guns each were placed on the river bank, one near the present market-place, and the other near where the Custom House now stands. Most of the pieces were eighteen pounders. The non-combatant inhabitants of the surrounding country had come into the city in considerable numbers, bringing with them what they could in the way of provisions. On Sunday two canoes were sent down the river to warn the vessels that [285]were expected to arrive from France to keep out of harm's way. On their safe arrival the life almost of the colony might be said to depend. At seven o'clock on Sunday evening news came that the hostile fleet had passed the eastern end of the Island of Orleans. There was not much sleeping that night. At three o'clock on Monday morning their distant lights could be seen down the river. At daybreak there could be counted in the harbour, some authorities say thirty-two, and some thirty-four, English sails.

A few hours of tense expectation elapsed, and then a boat carrying a flag of truce was seen putting out from the admiral's ship. It bore an envoy from Phipps, who was to demand of the governor the surrender of the place. A boat put out from the shore to meet it, and the envoy, having been taken on board, was blindfolded, and brought ashore. Here, according to one account, he was crowded and hustled, and made to clamber over unnecessary obstacles, the object being to persuade him that the place was more numerously defended and more difficult of entrance than it really was. In reading the contemporary narratives it is often difficult to know what to believe. Nearly all are vitiated by extreme generality of statement and inaccuracy in detail. That of La Hontan betrays the enormous mendacity of the writer, who, so long as he could be amusing and sensational, was absolutely indifferent as to facts. Checking one by another[286], however, it is not impossible to arrive at a fairly coherent and credible narrative. It was about ten in the forenoon when the messenger was introduced into the reception-room of the Château St. Louis. The mise en scène had been carefully arranged for the moment when the bandage should be removed from his eyes. Frontenac was there in a gorgeous uniform and looking the soldier and seigneur from head to foot. Around him, also in uniform, stood the members of his staff and the principal military and civil officers of the colony. It was such an array of military and official pomp as simple New England eyes had probably never gazed on. History does not seem to have preserved the name or rank of the messenger, and we have no certain information as to the effect produced upon him by the gallant and brilliant company that met his gaze. All we know is that he handed a letter from Phipps to the haughty governor, and awaited his answer. The letter read as follows:—

Frontenac was not versed in the English language, so the letter was given to an interpreter to translate. When the latter had finished the reading, the envoy presented his watch to the governor, observing that it was then ten o'clock, and that he would have to have an answer by eleven. The dignity of the assembled officers was much hurt by the brusque terms of Phipps's summons; and, before Frontenac had had time to frame his reply, one of them cried out that Phipps was nothing but a pirate, and that the man before them should be hanged. Frontenac was not disposed to go so far. "Tell your general," he said, "that I do not recognize King William, and that the Prince of Orange is a usurper, who has violated the most sacred ties of blood in attempting to dethrone his father-in-law. I recognize no other sovereign in England than King James. Your general ought not to be surprised at the hostilities he says are carried on by the French against the Massachusetts colony; since he might expect that the king, my master, having received the King of England under his protection, and being ready to replace him on the throne by force of [289]arms, as I am informed, would order me to wage war in this country on a people in rebellion against their lawful sovereign. Does your general imagine," he continued, pointing to the officers who filled the room, "that, even if he offered me better conditions, and I were of a temper to accept them—does he think that so many gallant gentlemen would consent to it, or advise me to place any confidence in the word of a man who violated the capitulation he made with the governor of Port Royal, one who has been wanting in loyalty to his rightful sovereign, and who, unmindful of the personal benefits received by him from that sovereign, adheres to the fortunes of a prince who, while trying to persuade the world to accept him as the liberator of England and defender of the faith, tramples on the laws and privileges of the kingdom, and overturns the English Church? This is what the divine justice invoked by your general in his letter will not fail some day to punish severely."

It is possible that the terms of the governor's answer may have been somewhat conventionalized by his secretary, to whose pen we are indebted for a report of it.[46] Phipps speaks of it as "a reviling answer," the drift of which was that he and those with him were traitors for "having taken up with a usurper, and seized upon that good Christian Sir Edmund Andros." The messenger, who doubtless felt his position somewhat uncomfortable,[290] asked the count whether he would not give him an answer in writing. "No!" was the reply; "the only answer I will give will be from the mouth of my cannon and musketry, that he may learn that it is not in such a style that a person of my rank is summoned." Whatever he might forget, Frontenac could not forget his personal rank. There was now no more to be said; the messenger's eyes were again bandaged, and he was conducted back to his boat.

So now, Sir William, your work is cut out for you! There is the fortress; take it. This is not Port Royal, nor is that hard-featured warrior Menneval. This is a city set on a hill. Its guns are shotted and skilfully disposed. It has defenders by the hundred; and before night closes their numbers will be doubled; for Callières is on the march with all the troops that can be spared from Montreal, Three Rivers and other posts—eight hundred fighting men in all. Behind those ramparts, or awaiting you in the rear of the town, are men accustomed to warfare whether in the open field or in forest ambush. The adventure is one of great pith and moment, if you can but succeed in it!

The probability is that by this time Phipps had begun to take a more serious view of his task. He was one of those men who require to be favoured by luck. He was better at making a dash than at organizing victory. He had courage and a good deal of practical skill in navigation, but [291]there is no evidence that he possessed the talents of a military commander. The readiness with which the inhabitants of Acadia had renounced their French allegiance had led him to believe that in Canada he might actually be welcomed as a liberator.[47] Of any such disposition on the part of the Canadians there had certainly been no sign as yet. It was reported at Quebec that he had attempted to land some men at Rivière Ouelle, and had been repulsed by the inhabitants under the leadership of their curé. The story, however, as given by Mère Juchereau, had plainly passed through the hands of the mythmakers before she got hold of it, for she tells us that "the moment the first boat was within musket shot, the curé ordered a volley, which killed the whole crew with the exception of two men who made off in great haste." Walley's journal makes no mention of any attempt to land, and the story may be assumed to be an imaginative invention. What at least may be regarded as certain is that, up to the date of his arrival before Quebec, Phipps had not received any encouraging overtures from the inhabitants. Other causes of anxiety were not wanting. Smallpox had broken out in his fleet, and the weather was most bitterly cold for the season. On the day of the summons and the following day he and his force remained inactive. On the afternoon of the first day Iberville and his brother Maricourt, r[292]eturning with a few of their men from Hudson's Bay, landed safely at Beauport in sight of the ships, having slipped up the North Channel in a couple of canoes. In the evening about seven o'clock Callières, governor of Montreal, marched into the city at the head of eight hundred men. Shouts of welcome, mingled with martial music, reached the ears of the English, and were rightly interpreted as meaning that the city had received reinforcements.

The plan of the attack was that a body of men should be landed on the Beauport flats to the north of the city, and endeavour to obtain access by crossing the river St. Charles; that the principal war vessels should take up their position in front of the city; that others should move further up so as to create the impression that troops were to be landed above Cape Diamond, in order to take the city in the rear; and that the bombardment should only begin when a signal had been received that the troops at the other side had made their entrance. The scheme was a good one, but it was not well carried out. On Wednesday forenoon about thirteen hundred men under Major Walley were landed, apparently without opposition, though there were troops in abundance—levies from Beauport and Beaupré, Indians from Lorette, as well as the forces within the city—who could have made the landing exceedingly difficult and costly in lives, had they been led to the spot; particularly as the enemy had to wade knee-deep, and[293] even waist-deep, in icy water in order to get to land. The landing having been effected, Walley drew up his force in companies, selecting four to act as an advance guard, or, as he calls them, "forlorns," and then ordered a march for the higher ground. They had not gone a hundred yards before there was firing from cover on both flanks, particularly from the right; there, Walley says, "there was a party galled us considerably." A charge having been ordered the defenders gave way, but continued to fire from swamp and bush as they retreated.[48] In the pursuit Walley gained a position not far from the St. Charles River. He was expecting some vessels to come into the river with supplies, and for that reason, as well as for others, wished to be near it. One or two houses and barns gave a little shelter, but many of the men had to lie out all night. If we may trust his statement his loss in killed on that day was four, and in wounded sixty. Considering the nature of the landing, "it was a great mercy," he says, "we had no more damage done us." He judged that he had killed some twenty of the Canadians, but that was a vast over-estimate. The Chevalier de Clermont, an experienced and valuable officer,[294] had been killed, and Juchereau de St. Denis, who commanded the Beauport militia, had been wounded; but the total of killed and wounded on the Canadian side did not probably exceed the figure mentioned.

In the course of the day a Frenchman, who was a fugitive from his own side, surrendered to Walley's men, and from him the New England commander learned the somewhat discouraging news that the defensive forces in the city far outnumbered the whole of Phipps's expedition. Troops had been pouring in from different quarters both before and after the governor's arrival, and the last body of men brought by Callières had raised the total to about three thousand. Walley threatened the man very seriously as to what would happen if he did not tell the truth, and he seems to have heeded the warning. The number he mentioned agrees with the figures given by the contemporary historian Belmont, and also by Captain Sylvanus Davis, who was a prisoner in Quebec during the siege.

According to the arrangement made between Phipps and Walley, the former was only to begin the bombardment after the latter had forced an entrance into the town. Moreover, small armed vessels were to sail into the St. Charles, to assist his passage of that river and to furnish his force with necessary supplies of food and ammunition. Why this arrangement was departed from is not very clear; but about four o'clock on Wednesd[295]ay afternoon Phipps moved his four principal vessels up before the town, and no sooner had he come within cannon shot than the shore batteries opened fire. Then ensued a duel in which the defence had all the best of it. Their guns were much better served than those of the assailants, and they had excellent marks to shoot at. The fight was maintained till after dark, by which time Phipps had fired away nearly all his ammunition and accomplished virtually nothing. One boy in the town had been killed by a splinter of rock; the buildings in the town had scarcely been injured at all. Phipps says he dismounted some of the enemy's best guns, but his story is unconfirmed. Certain it is that his vessels suffered serious damage in hulls, masts, and rigging, and that, after a brief renewal of the encounter the next morning, he drew them all off.

An incident which has given rise to a good deal of discussion may here be referred to. The flag of the admiral's vessel was shot away and fell into the river. It was captured by some men from the shore, but whether under the very heroic circumstances described by an eminent Canadian poet on the authority of Père Charlevoix, is, to say the least, open to doubt. Charlevoix has it that, no sooner had the flag fallen into the water and begun to drift away, than some Canadians swam out and seized it, notwithstanding the fire directed on them from the ships. Contemporary writers know nothing of any such feat. The one who comes[296] nearest to the father's account of the matter is Mère Juchereau, who says that "our Canadians went out rashly in a bark canoe and brought it to land under the noses of the English." She does not even say they were fired on. How near they got to the English we can hardly judge from the expression "à la barbe des Anglais," which is not a measure of length. On the other hand we have from a contemporary writer, the Récollet, Père Leclercq, whose book was published in 1691, the year following the attack on Quebec, a plain, consistent statement as to how the thing happened, and one the terms of which are in distinct conflict with the popular version. After describing how the vice-admiral's ship had been the first to withdraw beyond the reach of the shore batteries, he continues: "The admiral [Phipps] followed him pretty closely and with precipitation, paying out the whole length of his anchor-cable, and then letting it go. His flag, which drifted away in the river, was left to our discretion, and our people went and fished it out."[49] The words used plainly imply that there was neither difficulty nor danger in recovering the flag; and this be it remembered was the story Leclercq heard at the time, and published alm[297]ost immediately. Frontenac, who would certainly have been pleased to approve the bravery of his people, simply says that Phipps lost his flag, "which remained in our possession"; while Monseignat's statement in what may be regarded as the official narrative, is that the admiral's flag and another were borne in triumph to the church. Charlevoix's lack of accuracy in details is evident in the very paragraph in which he deals with this incident; for he says that no sooner had Phipps's messenger returned to his ship, than, to the great surprise of the English, shots were fired from one of the Lower Town batteries, and that the first one carried away the flag. This is pure romance. Phipps's vessel was not within range at the time, and no shots were exchanged till late in the afternoon of Wednesday, two days later. The loquacious La Hontan, who at least knows how to adorn a tale, if not point a moral, knows nothing of this particular occurrence, otherwise he would certainly have included it in a narrative which, it is evident, he aimed at making as lively and piquant as possible. It is no disparagement of the valour of the defenders of Quebec to doubt whether the incident took place as described either by Charlevoix, who did not visit the country till thirty years after the event, and did not publish his book till twenty-four years later, or by Mère Juchereau. Many a brave deed has passed unnoticed of history; and, en revanche, many an insignificant act has been wrapped round by legend with clouds of glory. I[298]f there is reason to doubt whether this particular deed was done in a specially heroic, or even in a very dramatic manner, there are incidents in abundance left to attest the heroism of the French-Canadian race. The legends of a people bear witness to its ideals, and help to repair the wrongs that history does by leaving so much that is truly memorable and admirable unrecorded.

While Phipps on Thursday was drawing off his shattered vessels, Walley and his men were having a very miserable time ashore. The succour he was expecting did not arrive. Instead he received what he did not want at all—six field-pieces, twelve-pounders, weighing about eight hundred pounds each, which the nature of the ground made it impossible to use, and which thus proved a simple embarrassment. However, thinking the vessels would arrive later in the day, Walley moved his men somewhat nearer to the town, and took up a position rather better both for shelter and for defence. This movement does not seem to have been opposed by the Canadian forces, as there is no mention in the narratives of any fighting on this day. The vessels did not come with the evening tide as hoped; and Walley, in his simple narrative, says: "We stood upon our guard that night, but found it exceeding cold, it freezing that night so that the next morning the ice would bear a man." The position was both distressing and precarious, and a council of war was called during the night to consider what should be done. By[299] this time the assailing force had some idea of the nature of the task they had undertaken: to advance in the face of skirmishers having every advantage of position; to ford a river behind which a thousand men and several pieces of artillery were posted; and, should they by any miracle succeed in that, to encounter a couple of thousand more within the walls of the town. Many of their men were sick, some were literally freezing, others worn and exhausted. Their provisions were short, their ammunition very low. The decision of the council was that Walley should go on board the admiral's vessel next day and ask for instructions.

During Walley's absence on Friday forenoon, skirmishing was renewed with losses on both sides, but chiefly on that of the New Englanders. On the French side M. de Ste. Hélène received a wound in the thigh, from which he died in hospital some weeks later. Phipps consented to a retreat; and Walley, on returning to land in the afternoon, began to prepare for it. The following morning before daylight boats arrived to take the men off; but Walley, discovering too great haste on the part of his men to embark, ordered the boats back. There was further skirmishing during the day consequent upon Walley's desire to keep the enemy at a respectful distance, so that the embarkation he hoped to make that night might not be interfered with. Towards evening he used some boats that he had to send off his sick and wounded, but was careful not to afford any indication [300]of a general retreat. This was finally accomplished, not without haste, noise, and confusion bordering on insubordination, between dark and one or two o'clock on the morning of Sunday, the 22nd. Through some gross mismanagement five of the eight cannon that had been landed were left behind for the greater glory of the enemy.

A council of war was held on board the admiral's ship on that lamentable Sunday. Further offensive schemes were discussed; but, even as they talked, the leaders knew that nothing of any moment could be accomplished. They had all but exhausted their ammunition, and their provisions were running low. There was a great deal of sickness among the men, and the casualties ashore and in the bombardment had not been inconsiderable. In the end, they appointed a prayer-meeting for next day "to seek God's direction" as Walley expresses it, but the weather was unfavourable for a meeting. Some of the ships, in fact, dragged their anchors, and were in danger of being driven on the town. The following day the whole fleet slipped down to the Island of Orleans on the homeward track.

Walley in his Journal, apparently an honest piece of work, sums up comprehensively the causes of the failure: "The land army's failing, the enemy's too timely intelligence, lying three weeks within three days' sail of the place, by reason whereof they had time to bring in the whole strength of their country, the shortness of[301] our ammunition, our late setting out, our long passage, and many sick in the army—these," he says, "may be reckoned as some of the causes of our disappointment." Reasons enough surely. On both sides the hand of Providence was seen. "Well may you speak of this country," writes Laval to Denonville, "as the country of miracles." Had Phipps arrived but one week sooner he would certainly, in Laval's opinion, have captured the city, and that he did not arrive sooner was due to unfavourable winds. Similarly, Sister Anne Bourdon, archivist of the Ursuline Convent, writes that, when the first news of the approach of the English was received, nothing was spared in the way of religious practices "to appease divine justice." The happy result was that "Heaven, granting our prayers, sent winds so contrary that the enemy in nine days only made the distance they might otherwise have made in half a day." So Mère Juchereau of the Hôtel Dieu: "God doubtless stopped them, to give the Montrealers time to arrive." Bishop Saint Vallier improved the occasion to stimulate the piety of his people. "Let us," he said, "raise our eyes, my dear children, and see God holding the thunder in His hand, which He is ready to let fall on us. He is causing it now to rumble in order to awaken you from the slumber of your sins."

On the English side no less solemn a view was taken of the events of the time. Governor Bradstreet, of Massachusetts, writing to the agents of the colony in England, speaks of "the awfu[302]l frown of God in the disappointment of that chargeable [costly] and hazardous enterprise." "Shall our Father," he exclaims, "spit in our face, and we not be ashamed? God grant that we may be deeply humbled and enquire into the cause, and reform those sins that have provoked so great anger to smoke against the prayers of his people, and to answer us by terrible things in righteousness." Cotton Mather in like manner speaks of "an evident hand of Heaven, sending one unavoidable disaster after another." He also reports a saying of Phipps, that, though he had been accustomed to diving in his time, he "would say that the things which had befallen him in this expedition were too deep to be dived into." The total loss of life on the part of the New England forces, taking shipwreck and disease into account, must have run far into the hundreds. Phipps estimated his loss in the engagements at Quebec at thirty, and possibly the number of those actually killed did not much exceed that figure. On the Canadian side the number of killed has been placed at nine, and of the wounded at fifty-two.[50]

All that remained now was to make the best of their melancholy way to Boston. Frontenac had sent a small force under M. Subercase to the Island of Orleans to watch the departing fleet, which might, had its commander been so minded, have committed serious depredations on the parishes along the river. Phipps sent ashore to ask Subercase if there would be any objection to his buying supplies from the inhabitants. The reply was that he might buy what he liked, and a lively trade, very profitable to the farmers, at once sprang up between them and the squadron. Negotiations for an exchange of prisoners followed. Phipps, as we have seen, had captured some on his way up; and he had with him two ecclesiastics whom he had taken in Acadia. The French on their side had Sylvanus Davis, the former commandant of Fort Loyal, two daughters of Captain Clarke who had been killed in the attack on that fort, and a little girl called Sarah Gerrish. All these had received good treatment during their detention at Quebec, and the little girls had particularly endeared themselves to the nuns to whose charge they had been confided, and who were much grieved at having to give them up.

If the weather had been bad on the way to Quebec it was worse on the return. Without the aid of a pilot, Phipps had succeeded in bringing all his vessels safely to Quebec, but on the home voyage several were lost. One, Cotton Mather relates, was never heard of. A second was wrecked, but most of its crew were saved. A third was cast[304] on the coast, and all on board, with the exception of one man, perished through drowning, starvation, or at the hands of the Indians. A fourth was stranded on the Island of Anticosti. There seemed to be no means of escape from this dreary shore; and forty-one of the crew had already died of hardship, when the captain, John Rainsford by name, and four others determined that they would try to reach Boston in an open boat, in order that, if they escaped the perils of the sea, they might send help to those still alive on the island. It was the 25th March when they put forth in their most precarious craft. "Through a thousand dangers from the sea and ice, and almost starved with hunger and cold," to use the words of Cotton Mather's recital, they arrived at Boston on the 11th May. As soon as a proper vessel could be procured, Rainsford started back to rescue the survivors. Four had died during his absence. Death was staring the remainder in the face, when the sail they had hardly dared to hope for flickered on the horizon. It was too good to be true, and yet it was true. Their heroic captain had come to their relief; and on the 28th June he landed them, seventeen in number, once more on New England soil.

CHAPTER XI

FIRE AND SWORD ON THE BORDER

The departure of the New England fleet left the French colony in a condition of great exhaustion, and, for a time, of poignant anxiety. Three vessels were on their way out from France laden with military and other supplies, and were due just about this time. Should Phipps encounter them in the lower St. Lawrence, they would assuredly become his prey, and what the country would do in that case it was painful to speculate. Frontenac writing after Phipps had left, and before he had news of the safety of the expected vessels, gives a vivid account of the situation. There had been a serious failure of the crops. Early in the season the grain had looked very promising; but cold and rainy weather during the harvest had almost ruined it. What made matters worse was that there had been a short crop the year before, so that they were already, in November, consuming the little grain they had just harvested. Unless a supply is received by the ships, there will be hardly any to be got in the country for love or money. Everything else is at the lowest ebb, wine, brandy, goods of all kinds. The servants in the château have for some time had only water to drink, and in a week the governor himself will be brought to the same sad necessity. This letter was written on the 11th[306] November; fortunately before the week expired the vessels had arrived; and the gallant count was not reduced to being an involuntary total abstainer. The quantity of provisions brought out, however, was very scanty, not exceeding a month's supply; and as the colony managed to struggle through the winter, and had a sufficiency of seed-grain for the following spring, perhaps things were not quite so bad as represented. The ships owed their escape from capture to measures wisely taken by the governor in sending boats down the river to advise them to slip into the Saguenay till Phipps should have passed down, which they did.

The arrival of Phipps in Boston with his shattered and diminished fleet, and shrunken and disheartened forces, produced a feeling almost of despair. The success of the expedition had been counted on with the greatest certainty. Cotton Mather declares that he "never understood that any of the faithful did in their prayers arise to any assurance that the expedition should prosper in all respects; yet they sometimes in their devotions uttered their persuasion that Almighty God had heard them in this thing, that the English army should not fall by the hands of the French enemy." The higher criticism would probably detect in this declaration a large ex post facto element. The English army did not exactly fall by the hands of the French enemy; but between the French enemy, cold, tempest and sickness, the expedition had been a most disastrous failure, which "the[307] faithful" had certainly been far from thinking was, or could be, in the designs of Providence. There was no money in the treasury with which to pay the troops, who soon began to be clamorous and threatened mutiny. Finally, an issue of paper money was decided on, and the difficulty was thus tided over; but it was long before this questionable currency, which was only receivable in payment of public debts, and which for a time circulated at a discount of from twenty-five to thirty per cent., was fully redeemed.

The period now opening was destined to be one of savage border warfare. The Iroquois—particularly the Mohawks—were still on the war-path, and were resuming all their ancient boldness in their attacks on the French settlements. In the spring of 1691 there were some informal and, as they turned out, futile negotiations for peace, brought on by the fact that a party of Mohawks who had captured ten mission Indians near Chambly, sent them back a few days later by three of their own people, who entered the fort at St. Louis unarmed, and began to talk of peace. Callières, the governor of Montreal, did not quite know what to make of it, and meantime kept his troops scouring the neighbourhood. It seems probable that the Mohawks were really more anxious to draw away their kinsmen of the Laprairie mission from the French than to make peace with the latter. On more than one occasion the mission Indians had shown reluctance in making war on their own[308] people, and something of the same feeling existed on the side of the heathen warriors, who always hoped that they might some day reclaim their separated brethren. Meantime the raiding went on, but took the form chiefly of killing the cattle and burning the houses of the settlers, though now and again one or two of the latter would be killed or carried off. It was in the early summer of 1691 that a somewhat memorable incident in this wild warfare occurred. A party of forty or fifty Oneidas had in one of their forays taken possession of an abandoned house at Repentigny, a point on the north shore of the river St. Lawrence, just opposite the north-eastern end of the Island of Montreal. Possibly they had captured some brandy in their prowlings round the country; but whatever the reason was, they were not exercising their usual vigilance. They were observed by a certain Captain de Mine in charge of a detachment of soldiers, who succeeded in retreating from the spot and crossing over to some islands in the river without attracting their attention. Here he was joined by M. de Vaudreuil, at the head of a picked force of Canadians and some regular soldiers; and the combined force then crossed over to the main-shore, a little below the house which the savages were making their headquarters. Approaching with the greatest caution, they found some Indians asleep outside. These they killed with a volley at short range; then rushing forward they surrounded the house. The Indians within fired from[309] the windows and killed four or five of the French, including M. de Bienville. Their fate, however, was sealed. The French fired in at the windows, and finally set fire to the house, when the unhappy savages, driven forth by the flames, were, all save one, either killed or captured. The sequel is not pleasant to relate. The captives numbered five. One was given to the Ottawa Indians, for what purpose does not appear; one, a lad of fourteen years, was spared, because his family had protected the Jesuit father, Millet; and the remaining three were distributed to the farmers of Pointe aux Trembles, Boucherville and Repentigny, who burnt them in retaliation, it is said, for lost relatives.

The attack on Quebec had awakened the French government to the necessity of strengthening the forces in Canada. On the 1st July a frigate, the Soleil d'Afrique, famous in her day as a very rapid sailer, arrived at Quebec, bringing much needed stores and supplies, and twelve days later a dozen more vessels, under the command of a M. du Tast, appeared in the harbour. Just about the same time a deputation of Ottawas had made their way to Quebec to discuss various matters, but particularly trade questions, with the governor. The one dream of the Ottawas was cheap goods. Probably had they been manufacturers their one dream would have been a high tariff. It was a bad time to ask for cheap goods—no time, indeed, in Canada was very good for that purpose—as the war[310] between France and England was interfering considerably with trade, and such goods as there were in the country were held at exorbitant prices. Other gratifications, however, were afforded them: the sight of the fourteen vessels in the harbour, the drill of the soldiers and sailors, the firing of salutes, the illumination of the ships and of the town—for the arrival of the fleet was made an occasion for prolonged rejoicings and festivities—produced a powerful impression on minds unaccustomed to such wonders. They were also greatly charmed with an entertainment given at the château on the 22nd of July to which they were invited, and at which, according to the official narrative, "thirty beautiful ladies, entering very properly into the views of their host, paid them every attention." On the following day they were dismissed, laden with gifts, but not before they had been shown the large stores of war material that had been received from France, which it was hoped would give them a lively idea of the resources Canada possessed for making successful war upon her enemies. Early in the season Frontenac had despatched the Sieur de Courtemanche to Michilimackinac to convey to the tribes of that region the news of the defeat of the English before Quebec, and to inquire what they were doing against the Mohawks. The reply given was to the effect that a number of their bands had gone on the war-path, that others were about to start, and that the Miamis and Illinois had also moved against the enemy, and forced the[311] Senecas to abandon some of their towns. As regards the Ottawas and Hurons the case was probably overstated; otherwise the deputation to Quebec, which started after Courtemanche had left Michilimackinac, would have laid no little stress on the sacrifices which their people were making.

The month of August of this year (1691) was marked by one of the most important and stubborn engagements which had yet taken place between the French of Canada and their English and Indian enemies. The Iroquois, who since the massacre at Schenectady had been doing a good deal of fighting at the instance of their English allies, began to get a little tired of the business, in which, as they thought, the parties most concerned were not taking their proper share. They spoke out so plainly on the subject that it was decided at Albany to organize an expedition of whites to act in concert with the Mohawks and Mohegans or Wolves. The entire force, the command of which was given to Major Peter Schuyler, consisted of two hundred and sixty men, one hundred and twenty being English or Dutch, and the rest Indians. Going by way of Lake Champlain they descended the Richelieu to within a few miles of Chambly, where they left a detachment to guard their canoes, and then pushed on towards Laprairie de la Madeleine, the scene of Captain John Schuyler's exploit of the year before. Here a force of seven or eight hundred men, under Callières,[312] was awaiting them, an English prisoner captured by an Indian party near Albany having given information of their approach. As it happened, however, Callières had been smitten with a serious fever, and was not himself in active command. The regular troops were encamped to the left of the fort, which was close to the river, and the Canadians and Indians to the right. If a contemporary historian, Belmont,[51] may be trusted, the Canadians were well supplied with brandy, and used it only too freely. However that may have been, Schuyler's men, about an hour before dawn, attacked the Canadian camp, and drove the enemy before them into the fort, killing two or three, and also six Ottawa Indians who were sleeping under their canoes. The firing roused the regulars who, rushing to the scene, were met by a deadly volley. They rallied, however, and Schuyler, finding himself greatly outnumbered, retreated to a ravine, where he made a stand, and, as he states, repulsed his assailants. What seems to be certain is that he made a deliberate retreat towards his base on the Richelieu without being pursued, notwithstanding the superiority of the enemy. Amongst those who were killed on the French side were M. de St. Cirque, second in command to M. de Callières, M. d'Hosta, a valuable officer who had accompanied Nicolas Perrot on his mission to the Ottawas the year before, Captain Désquérat, and Lieutenant[313] Domergue.

This, however, was not the end. Could Schuyler have retired after having inflicted comparatively heavy loss on the enemy, and sustained but little himself, he might have boasted of a signal success as these things went. This, however, was a case in which recipere gradum was destined to be much the harder part of his task. There was an enemy posted on the line of his retreat, and a brave and determined one. Valrennes, an officer of birth and of tried ability, former commandant of Fort Frontenac, had been sent to Chambly with a force consisting of one hundred and sixty regulars and militia, together with thirty or forty Indians, his instructions being to defend that place if attacked; but, should the enemy take the road to Laprairie, then to post himself in their rear and cut them off from their canoes. It was hoped in this way to catch them between two fires. Had this scheme been fully carried out, Schuyler's whole force would indubitably have been killed or captured. Owing, however, to the unexplained inactivity of the main body at Laprairie, the brunt of the second fight had to be borne by the detachment under Valrennes, which was somewhat, though not much, inferior in number to Schuyler's command. Valrennes posted his men behind two large trees that had fallen across the road on an acclivity, and, from this position of vantage, inflicted considerable loss upon the invaders. The latter, however, exhibited great bravery[314], and finally fought their way through, but were compelled to leave their dead behind to the number of nearly forty. Schuyler, in his narrative of the expedition, admits that he was uncommonly glad to see the last of so obstinate a foe. Why the small band of about twenty-five men left in charge of the canoes was not first overpowered, as it might easily have been, and the canoes destroyed, does not appear. Schuyler on reaching the river found men and canoes safe, and, re-embarking with his diminished force, succeeded in regaining Albany.

The courage and address displayed by Valrennes in this encounter won him a great increase of reputation. As we have seen, the French lost a number of valuable officers in the fight at Laprairie. The English loss was almost entirely incurred in the second fight; in the first, Schuyler says he lost but one Christian and one Indian. The reason given in the French narrative for not pursuing the enemy is that, after an hour and a half's fighting and some previous heavy marching, neither French nor Indians had strength for any further exertion—that they could not even have defended themselves had the fight been prolonged. This rather tends to confirm Schuyler's statement that, after breaking through their position, he turned about and forced them to retreat. He and his men then effected their own retreat without molestation, carrying with them their wounded, who must have been numerous.[315]

The news of the advance of the English had caused Frontenac to proceed to Three Rivers with such troops as could be spared from Quebec. He had not been there many days when news of the actual fighting came to hand. A couple of days later Valrennes himself arrived with fuller details; and gave so glowing an account of the valour of his troops and the losses inflicted on the enemy, that the depression which had at first been caused by the serious list of casualties amongst the officers, was in a large measure removed. He was accompanied by the famous Indian, Orehaoué, previously mentioned as having been brought out by Frontenac from France, and who during this summer had been rendering valuable service in different expeditions. This chieftain had with him an Onondaga Indian captured by him in the West, whom he presented to Frontenac. This was the day of reprisals, and Frontenac handed over the unfortunate to the Algonquins to be dealt with after their manner. The Algonquins were in due course proceeding to burn him, when a Huron gave him a coup de grâce with his tomahawk, which the writer of the official narrative seems almost to think was a mistake, observing that "the Algonquins are better judges of these things."

Notwithstanding the decisive repulse of the Boston expedition, no small anxiety was felt lest there might be a renewal of attack from the same quarter. Phipps had threatened to come back, and shortly after his arrival at Boston had sailed for England in the hope of engaging the king's[316] interest and assistance in the matter. Frontenac thought it prudent, all things considered, to detain two of the ships which came out in July until the 3rd September. He then commissioned one of them to convey to Acadia M. de Villebon, whom he was sending to that province as lieutenant-governor. The New Englanders had taken no measures whatever for securing their control of the country; no officer of any kind, no garrison, however small, had been left there to represent English authority, so that all Villebon had to do was to haul down an English flag which he found peacefully flying, and run up a French one in its place. Reporting to the minister, M. de Pontchartrain, in a despatch dated 20th October 1691, the re-establishment of French control, Frontenac takes occasion to recommend that Boston should be attacked by sea. Not only would it make Canada more secure, but there would be a great satisfaction in destroying such a nest of hardened parliamentarians. Frontenac's sympathies, as may be supposed, were all with the Stuarts and the divine right of kings. Unfortunately for the realization of his wishes, neither Frontenac nor his master had any ships available for the suggested undertaking. All that was possible at the moment was to incite the Abenaquis to inflict as much damage as possible on the hated enemy. In a despatch written a few months earlier, Frontenac had given a very lively account of the services rendered by these faithful and bloodthirsty all[317]ies. "It is impossible," he says, "to describe the ravages these Indians commit for fifty leagues around Boston, capturing daily their forts and buildings, killing numbers of their people, and performing incredible deeds of bravery." A little discount must, perhaps, be taken off the "incredible bravery," as the Indian mode of warfare was rather stealthy than brave; but Frontenac in his despatches could always heighten the effect with a little judicious rhetoric. Villebon, too, after arriving in his government, wrote direct to the minister, eulogizing the same allies, and observing how dangerous it would have been to Canada, if the Boston people had succeeded in making a solid peace with them. In that case, instead of having to sail round by the gulf, they could at any time march direct from Pentagouet to Quebec in about twelve days. It was therefore of the utmost importance to cultivate the friendship of the savages by means of presents, and to keep them well supplied with arms. The idea of attacking Boston was also very close to Villebon's heart. There would be no difficulty about it, if only there were a few ships to spare, as its situation was a most exposed one; and no town could be more easily burnt, the streets being very narrow, and the houses all of wood.

Canada at this time, there is no doubt, was suffering from severe depression. Frontenac himself says that when the ships arrived in July, "the colony was reduced to the greatest extremities." He est[318]imated that out of thirteen hundred soldiers maintained by the king at the date of the attack on Quebec more than half had been "killed on divers occasions or had died of disease." In all, he said, more than two thousand men, "militia, regulars and veterans," had been lost in Canada since the war, by which he probably means the war against the Iroquois commenced by his predecessor. He asks that one thousand effective men should be sent "to complete the twenty-eight companies his Majesty has hitherto maintained here." The ships that arrived in July had not brought out any additional troops. It must be confessed that it is a little difficult to understand the loss of so many soldiers as Frontenac reports. The losses of men at Quebec in repelling Phipps's attack—represented by the French accounts as being very light, and which even the enemy did not pretend were very heavy—fell chiefly on the militia; while, in the fights with Schuyler, described by the French annalist as "the most obstinate battle that has ever been fought in Canada since the foundation of the colony," the acknowledged losses were only forty killed and about the same number wounded. There is nothing on record to show that many perished in casual skirmishes with the Indians, whose custom was to avoid troops whenever possible.

An expedition that deserves to be recorded was undertaken in the month of February of the following year (1692), when some three hundred men were sent to attack a band of Iroquois, [319]understood to be hunting somewhere between the St. Lawrence and the Ottawa. The leader of the party was M. Dorvilliers, an officer who had distinguished himself in the fight under Valrennes. At the very outset, however, Dorvilliers was accidentally disabled, and the command fell upon a youthful officer of engineers named Beaucour. The march through the forest was a terrible one: the cold was intense, and, accustomed as the men were to the rigours of the Canadian winter, they were rapidly losing heart, while some of the Indians were refusing to follow. Nothing but the indomitable spirit and courage of the leader saved the expedition from failure. He gathered the men round him and harangued them in terms and tones that gave new life to the whole party. Guided by the snowshoe tracks of the enemy, they followed on for four hours longer, when they caught up to and surprised them in their bivouac on an island in the St. Lawrence about a day's march below Cataraqui. Few of the savages escaped; most were killed in the first onset, but some, less fortunate, were captured and taken to Quebec, where three of them were tortured and burned. To avoid the same fate another killed himself in prison.

It was in the month of October of the same year that an incident occurred that has become the basis of what may be called one of the classic tales of Canadian history, the defence of the fort at Verchères by Madeleine, the fourteen-year-old daughter of the seigneur of the place, then absent on[320] duty at Quebec. The story is so fully and interestingly told by Parkman in his Count Frontenac and New France,[52] and is otherwise so well known, that it seems needless to repeat it here. A people may well be proud who know that the blood of such heroes and heroines as gave lustre to the early annals of Canada flows in their veins.

The conclusion to which Frontenac had come at this time was that the raising of large levies of men and organizing formal campaigns against so agile and elusive an enemy as the Iroquois was not a wise policy. He states so distinctly in a letter to Pontchartrain, dated in October 1692. Such expeditions, he says, "make great noise and do little harm"; he believes in "small detachments frequently renewed." There are some people, he continues, who think differently, and are always urging the Indians to entreat him to attempt something on a large scale. Who these are does not appear, but Frontenac says: "I put them off and endeavour to amuse them by always giving them hopes that I shall grant their desire." Possibly Callières was the moving spirit. Strange to say, it was only three months after writing thus that Frontenac gave his sanction to an expedition of the very kind that he had objected to. According to Champigny, indeed, he not only sanctioned but ordered it. The campaign in question, like that undertaken by Courcelles twenty-seven years before, was a midwinter one. The force raised consisted of six hun[321]dred and twenty-five men, comprising over three hundred of the most active young men of the country, one hundred picked soldiers, and about two hundred Indians, chiefly mission Iroquois of the Saut and the Mountain, but partly Hurons, Algonquins, and Abenaquis from Three Rivers and the neighbourhood of Quebec. The expedition started from Laprairie on the 25th January 1693, spent a night at Chambly, and then pushed on for Lake Champlain, their destination being the country of the Mohawks, for some time past their most troublesome enemies. Some hunting was done by the Indians on the way, and it was not till the 16th of February that they arrived within sight of the first of the Mohawk forts. There was another fort less than a mile distant. Both were attacked and captured simultaneously. There were only five defenders, we are told, in the first and still fewer in the second. There was a more important fort, however, about eight miles further away. This was taken by surprise at night, though not without a skirmish in which one man was killed on the French side, while some twenty or thirty of the Mohawks were slaughtered; the rest, to the number of over three hundred, two-thirds being women and children, surrendered.

Hereupon ensued a little misunderstanding between the French and their Indian allies. The former wanted the latter to kill all the male prisoners of fighting age, appealing to a promise they had made before starting that they would do [322]so. The Indians declined, and the French did not like to do the business themselves; possibly there would have been trouble had they attempted it. The only course that remained was to make the best of their way home, taking their prisoners with them. Their movements were hastened by learning that Peter Schuyler was on their track with a party of English and Indians. Immediately following on this news came the information that peace had been declared in Europe, and that Schuyler wished to hold a parley. The French leaders placed little faith in this statement, but their Indians insisted on waiting to see what Schuyler had to say. As the savages could not be moved, it was decided to fortify a position and wait. Schuyler arrived, and fortified a position of his own not far off. Some skirmishing followed, but no parleying; and after a few days' delay the French slipped away by night. Schuyler could not pursue them effectively for want of provisions. The retreat to Canada was marked by the greatest misery and suffering. Most of the prisoners had to be abandoned. Provisions that had been stored by the way were found on their return to have been totally destroyed by water. Several members of the party died of starvation, and others became perfectly helpless. News of their desperate condition was sent by special couriers to Callières, who at once despatched one hundred and fifty men with provisions on their backs. "Never," says Champigny, "was there such distress. They were four or five days without food. About one hun[323]dred and twenty, overpowered and exhausted, remained behind till they should be somewhat restored by the provisions we sent them. Two or three died of hunger; many threw down their arms, and almost all arrived without blankets, and scarcely able to drag their feet after them." The general result might well have confirmed Frontenac in the opinion he had previously expressed of such expeditions.

The Ottawa River had been so infested by Iroquois war parties for the last three years that it had been impossible for the Indians or coureurs de bois to use it as a channel of commerce, and the trade of the country was consequently at a standstill. The financial situation was indeed so gloomy that Frontenac, whose courage never failed him in a crisis, determined to try heroic measures of relief. He accordingly despatched M. d'Argenteuil with eighteen Canadians in four canoes to convey his orders to M. de Louvigny, commanding at Michilimackinac, to send down as large a party as he could of French and Indians with all the skins they could convey. The mission was a perilous one, and the men who engaged in it had to be well paid. With M. d'Argenteuil was sent another detachment of twenty men under M. de Lavaltrie to accompany him over what was considered the most dangerous part of the route. It does not appear at what point Argenteuil and Lavaltrie parted. The former reached his destination safely; the latter, on his return, was attacked by a party of Iroquois near the head of the Island of Montrea[324]l and killed with three of his men. This was not encouraging for the safe arrival of the men from the West. What was almost unhoped for, however, happened; and, to the immense joy and relief of the inhabitants, a flotilla of nearly two hundred canoes laden with goods arrived on the 4th August (1693) at Montreal. Frontenac heard the news at Quebec on the 17th. Three days later he set out for Montreal, arriving on the 28th. Seldom, if ever, had Montreal seen so much gaiety and good spirits; and, if we may trust the official narrative of events, profuse and unbounded were the expressions of praise and gratitude directed towards the head of the Canadian state, the brave old governor, who in the darkest days had never lost heart, nor allowed others to lose heart if he could help it, and whose prowess and resource the enemy was again being taught to respect.

That one at least of the Iroquois nations was prepared for peace was shown by the arrival at Montreal, in the month of June of this year, of an Oneida chief, bringing with him a French captive named Damour, whom he wished to exchange for a relative of his own in captivity at the Saut. The main object of his visit, however, was evidently to talk about peace. He was accordingly sent on to Quebec, where he had an interview with the governor. He stated that the most influential of the Oneida cabins were anxious for peace, and that the other nations were aware that he had come to speak about it. Frontenac's answer wa[325]s very firm. If the nations wanted peace, he said, let them send duly authorized delegates, and he would treat with them. The present chance was, perhaps, the last they would have; and, if they did not seize it, he would prosecute the war against them till they were exterminated. The Oneida, Tareha by name, departed with this answer. In the month of October he returned. He and his own people were still anxious for peace, but the other nations wanted to have the negotiations carried on at Orange. To this the count vehemently refused to assent. Meantime several vessels had arrived from France with reinforcements and large supplies of war material. M. d'Iberville also returned about the same time from Hudson's Bay, bringing with him a couple of English trading ships that he had picked up on the way, one being laden with a cargo of tobacco from Virginia. The crops throughout the country were this year very good, and, owing to the diminished activity of the enemy, had been saved almost entire.

Following on the arrival of the western Indians, M. de Tonty, with a large body of coureurs de bois, had come down from the Illinois and lake country to discuss questions of trade and defence and receive the governor's orders for their future movements. After being well entertained and receiving all necessary instructions, they departed laden with fresh supplies and equipments, as well as with presents for the tribes amongst whom[326] they were stationed. While New France was thus strengthened in its distant outposts its home defences had not been neglected. Extensive improvements had been made in the fortifications of Quebec, according to plans prepared by the celebrated French engineer Vauban, and carried out under the superintendence of M. de Beaucour, the officer already mentioned as having conducted a winter expedition against the Iroquois. A new and very strong palisade had been erected around Three Rivers; and the forts at Sorel and Chambly, virtually outposts of Montreal, had been greatly strengthened. Taking everything into account, there was much to justify a more confident and hopeful feeling throughout the country.

Meantime Frontenac's trusty allies, the Abenaquis, incited by the governor of Acadia and their missionary priests, and led by M. de Portneuf, a brother of M. de Villebon, had been fighting Canada's battles on the New England frontier. In February 1692 a band of between two and three hundred fell on the small frontier settlement of York, situated on the Maine coast, not far from the New Hampshire border, and killed, according to the French accounts, about a hundred persons, chiefly women and children, taking at the same time about eighty captives. New England authorities place the number of killed at forty-eight, and that of the captives at seventy-three. Amongst the slain was the minister of the parish, Dummer by name, a graduate of Harvard, and a man[327] greatly respected. His gown was carried off, and one of the Indians afterwards, arraying himself in it, preached a mock sermon to his companions. As soon as spring opened a body of the warriors proceeded to carry the good news to Villebon, who had established himself in a fort at a place called Naxouat, on the river St. John, near the site of the present town of Fredericton, Port Royal, as he thought, being too open to attack. Villebon received them right royally. Speeches, drinking, and feasting were the order of the day, and presents were distributed with calculated generosity. They had done nobly, but there was more work of the same kind to be done. Their next venture, however, was not equally successful. The settlement of Wells was but a short distance from York, and thither they bent their steps in the early summer. Some of the houses at Wells were fortified; one in particular was defended by fifteen men under a militia captain named Convers. Fourteen more men with supplies arrived in two sloops on the 9th June, the very day on which the enemy made their appearance. The fourteen men managed to get into the fort, and the sloops, which were stranded in the bay by the ebbing tide, were left with no defenders save their crews. An unfortunate man named Diamond was captured in an attempt to pass from the fort to the sloops. The latter were first attacked, but the crew were well armed and shot two or three of the assailants, who then desisted. Turning th[328]eir attention to the fort they fired some futile shots, and did not a little shouting and threatening. Enraged at their want of success, they wreaked their fury on their unfortunate captive, whom they mutilated horribly before putting him to death. Then, after butchering all the cattle they could see, and burning some empty houses, they departed. Some went to Naxouat to see Villebon, who mentions in his journal that he "gave them a prisoner to burn, and that it would be impossible to add anything to the tortures they made him endure." Such was the frontier warfare of the time, and such were the men who incited it and sanctioned its worst excesses.

The hostility of the Abenaquis to the English was largely a cultivated one. The French could not afford to let it die out, and the influence of the missionaries was exerted in the same direction. Left to themselves, these savages, who, like their western brethren, wanted English goods, which were still cheaper at Boston than at Albany, would doubtless have come to terms with their English neighbours. Two circumstances at this time were inclining them to a change of policy. One was their ill success at Wells, and the second the fact that Phipps, who had returned from England in May 1692 with a commission as governor of Massachusetts, had proceeded, in the summer of that year, to rebuild and render much stronger than before the fort at Pemaquid, opposite Pentagouet, which had been destroyed in 1689, and also to erect anothe[329]r at the falls of the Saco. The one at Pemaquid had scarcely been completed before two French vessels under the command of Iberville were sent against it by Frontenac; and why they did not capture it has never been satisfactorily explained. True, the government of Massachusetts had received word of the approach of the enemy, and had sent an armed vessel for its protection; but the advantage was still greatly on the side of the French, who were under the command, moreover, of a man noted both for daring and for capacity. Whatever the reason, the French vessels sailed away without accomplishing anything. In August of the following year, both forts being garrisoned and equipped, most of the chiefs, including Madocawando, father-in-law of the famous Saint-Castin,[53] recognizing how seriously their own position had been weakened by the establishment of these outposts, negotiated a peace on behalf of their respective tribes. The French leaders, lay and clerical, alarmed at this abandonment of their cause, set to work at once to repair the mischief. Certain of the tribes were still disposed for war; and the final result of prolonged debate and a profuse distribution of presents, together with skilfully contrived appeals to t[330]he mutual jealousy of the different chieftains, was that the peace was repudiated by those who had signed it, and that all alike declared for hostilities.

This was in the month of June 1694. In July a force of over two hundred Indians, accompanied by two missionaries, and conducted by Villieu, successor to M. de Portneuf, who had been removed for peculation, attacked by night the settlement of Oyster River, now Durham, some twelve miles north-west of the present town of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and murdered one hundred and four persons, chiefly women and children. A few days later a similar descent was made on the settlements near Groton, fifty or sixty miles inland, where some forty persons were killed. Then pushing on to Quebec, Villieu gratified Count Frontenac by the exhibition of thirteen English scalps. More could have been had, but these sufficed as samples. The scalps of many of the slain would have been too pitifully small to add much grace to a warrior's belt. Villebon himself says in his journal that "the slaughter did not stop even at infants in the cradle."

These deeds were wrought, in part at least, by men who, a short time before, had signed a peace with the English. Phipps, who had proclaimed the peace through the settlements, felt a measure of responsibility for having, to that extent, induced a false sense of security among the inhabitants. He repaired to Pemaquid, and sent messengers to invite delegates of the tribes to meet him there. A number came. He reproached them for their bad faith, and[331] secured from them expressions of regret and promises to keep the peace in future. It was in vain, however; his work was quickly undone by the same influences which had been active before in the perpetuation of strife.

Phipps, whose appointment as governor had not been well received at Boston, and who consequently found himself involved in constant wrangling with some of the leading men of the place, was recalled about this time to England, where he died in the following year (1695). His successor, Stoughton, wrote a peremptory letter to the Abenaquis, calling upon them to bring in the prisoners they had taken. Those on the Kennebec returned a haughty answer; but a band from Father Thury's mission approached Fort Pemaquid under a flag of truce, and entered into a parley with the commandant, Chubb by name. Whether they sincerely meant to treat for peace is uncertain; Villebon says they were only pretending to do so. However this may have been, Chubb, without any positive knowledge of treachery on their part, opened fire on them, killed several, and made their chief, Egermet, a prisoner. A year later two French vessels under command of Iberville appeared before Pemaquid, landed cannon, and prepared to attack the place in concert with a large band of Indians led by Saint-Castin. Chubb at first put on a bold front; but scarcely had the firing begun before he offered to surrender, stipulating only that the lives of the garrison should be spared, and that they should[332] be exchanged for French and Indian prisoners then at Boston. Iberville honourably observed the conditions, though his Indian allies, in their eagerness to be avenged on Chubb, were hard to restrain. Their vengeance, however, was only deferred. Chubb was accused at Boston of cowardice in surrendering the fort, and suffered imprisonment there for some months. After his release he retired to his home at Andover. Thither his relentless foes tracked him, and murdered both him and his wife at their own fireside.

CHAPTER XII

THE DRAMA OF WAR—PEACE AT THE LAST

Our narrative of the warfare on the New England frontier has somewhat outrun that of events in Canada proper. The safe arrival of the canoes from the West, the consequent revival of trade, and the comparative immunity from attack enjoyed by the country towards the close of the year 1693 had, as we have seen, made the governor more popular in the country than ever before. Still there were not a few who acknowledged his merits but grudgingly, while they had much to say in regard to the defects of his administration. Charlevoix says that, could he only have added to his own high qualities the virtues of his predecessor, the pious Denonville, he would have been perfect, and the condition of the colony would have left nothing to desire. Frontenac, however, could not be a Denonville any more than Denonville could have been a Frontenac. He was a religious man in the practical, businesslike way in which men with strong political instincts and aptitudes are apt to be religious. There was nothing mystical about him, and little that was sentimental. Religion, in his opinion, was a good thing, but it had its own place; it was meant to co-operate to good ends with the state, but not to dominate the state. In France such views might have passed unchallenged, for these were the days when Gallicanism was at it[334]s height, but in Canada they met with keen opposition. There, as already remarked, the leaders of the church hoped to be able to mould a state in which the secular power should find its greatest glory in being the handmaiden of the spiritual.

Resuming the complaints made against the governor, Charlevoix tells us that he was censured for his indulgence to the officers, whose esteem and attachment he was very anxious to enjoy, and that he let all the burden of the war fall on the colonists. There may have been a slight measure of truth in the accusation; but it is certain that many officers of the regular army died bravely fighting the battles of the country. That the militia were, on the whole, better and more skilful fighters than the regular troops was early discovered. Denonville, it may be recalled, made some very disparaging remarks in regard to the latter on the occasion of his expedition against the Senecas. Another accusation, for which there was undoubted foundation, was that the officers were allowed to retain the pay of the soldiers who received permission to do civilian work. A soldier could always earn in one form or another of manual labour, much more than his military wages amounted to; and the custom sprang up of retaining and dividing amongst the officers the pay of those who engaged in such labour. The court finally took cognizance of the practice, and condemned it. Still more serious complaint was made, Charlevoix says, of Frontenac's toleration of the liquor trade. He quotes[335] on this subject a letter written by an ecclesiastic, the Abbé de Brisacier, to Père Lachaise, the king's confessor, in which it is stated that "brutalities and murders are being committed in the streets of Quebec by intoxicated Indian men and women, who in that condition have neither shame nor fear." There is also a letter extant from the worthy Superior of the Sulpicians at Montreal, M. Dollier de Casson, dated 7th October 1691, to a friend in France, that is really pathetic in its terms. If, he says, "our incomparable monarch" only knew the truth of the matter, "the uprightness of his intentions would not be misled by those numerous emissaries of the Evil One who spread the belief that without liquor we should have no savages visiting us and no fur trade." He speaks of liquor as "un damnable ecueil"—a damnable rock on which the poor Indian makes shipwreck—and gives a pitiful account of some of the horrors to be seen almost daily in the Indian missions. It may be doubted whether the condition of things was any worse in this respect under Frontenac than under Denonville, when the whole country seemed to be more or less paralyzed through the excessive use of brandy. It may possibly, indeed, have been better; the comparative efficiency of military operations may not unreasonably be held to point in that direction.

Frontenac and Champigny were not openly at strife, but judging by a letter written by the latter, and dated 4th November 1693, the governor acted[336] very tyrannically towards him. He quotes the bishop as saying that Frontenac treats him (Champigny) worse than he ever treated Duchesneau. He only puts up with it, he says, in order to carry out his instructions to live peaceably with the governor at all costs, and in the hope that the minister will appreciate the sacrifice he is making.

Frontenac, when in France, had lived much at court, and had doubtless witnessed and participated in many of the elaborate festivities which royalty was wont to grace with its presence. It is not surprising that he was ambitious to have some little echo of Versailles in his mimic court at Quebec. Never had the public of that capital been so disposed to relaxation and enjoyment as in the winter of 1693-4 when the country seemed to see some days of prosperity and tranquillity before it. Great, therefore, was the enthusiasm when in the holiday season two dramatic representations were given at the château. Officers and ladies took part in the performances, and the plays Nicomède and Mithridate were wholly unobjectionable. Everybody was happy except the clergy, who saw in such mundanities the most serious danger to the spiritual welfare of the community. The Abbé Glandelet of the Seminary was the first to raise a cry of alarm, preaching a sermon in the cathedral, in which he essayed to prove that no one could attend a play without incurring mortal sin. Then the bishop issued a mandate a little more[337] moderate in its terms, in which he distinguished between comedies innocent in their nature, but which under certain circumstances may be dangerous, and those which are absolutely bad and criminal in themselves, such as the comedy of Tartuffe and similar ones. Tartuffe, although his Majesty had listened to it on more than one occasion, and entertained a particular friendship for its author, was to the ecclesiastical world a terror. The bishop had heard a report that it was to be put upon the boards next, and fearing that his mandate alone might not have sufficient effect, he took occasion of a chance meeting with Frontenac to offer him a thousand francs if he would not produce it. Frontenac's friends say that he never had any intention of producing it; but he took the bishop's money all the same, and, it is stated, gave it next day to the hospitals. It is somewhat remarkable that Frontenac should have taken the money whether he did or did not intend to produce the play, and equally so that the bishop should have considered him accessible to a purely pecuniary argument in a matter of the kind.

It has been mentioned that in the summer of 1693 an Oneida chief had come to Quebec and talked of peace, and that, having gone back to his people, he returned in October with propositions which the governor contemptuously rejected. In the month of January following, two messengers came from the Iroquois country to say that, if they could have a safe-conduct, chiefs from each of the[338] Five Nations would come down with authority to negotiate for peace. A safe-conduct was promised, but Frontenac expressly stipulated that one particular Onondaga chief, Teganissorens, with whom he had had negotiations many years before, should accompany the delegation. In April a number of delegates came, but without Teganissorens. Frontenac refused to deal with them, and said that if any of them dared to come to see him again without that chief, he would put them into the kettle. This had its effect, for towards the end of May two delegates from each nation came down, Teganissorens being of the number. Belts were presented, and the language of the delegates was all that could be desired. "Onontio," said Teganissorens, presenting the sixth belt, "I speak to you in the name of the Five Nations. You have devoured all our chief men, and scarce any more are left. I ought to feel resentment on account of our dead. By this belt I say to you that we forget them; and, as a token that we do not wish to avenge them, we throw away and bury our hatchet under the ground, that it may never more be seen. To preserve the living we shall think no more of the dead." The personal appearance of the orator, known to the English as Decanisora, has been described by Colden in his History of the Five Nations, published in 1727. According to that author he was a tall, well-formed man, with a face not unlike the busts of Cicero; and we know from the French official narrative that he spoke with[339] remarkable fluency and grace. The count replied in a conciliatory manner; on both sides there seemed to be good dispositions towards peace, but yet no definite understanding was arrived at. The Iroquois wished to include the English in the peace, but Frontenac, of course, was not at liberty to make peace with a people with whom his master, the French king, was at war. The savages agreed, however, to give up their prisoners; and Orehaoué was sent with them to accept delivery of the captives and bring them back. The Onondagas for some reason refused to surrender theirs, but the other tribes made good the promise of their delegates. Among those who were released were some who had been detained since the massacre of Lachine, and in general they had not much complaint to make of their treatment. It was a proud day for Orehaoué when, completing the important duty entrusted to him, he was able to restore the long missing ones to country and home.

The majority of the tribes must have wished for peace, or they would not have given up their prisoners. It was, however, as much against the interest of the English to have peace established between the Iroquois and the French, as it was against the interest of the latter that there should be peace between the Abenaquis and the New Englanders. A long period of intrigue followed, with plotting and counter-plotting between the different parties concerned. The English on their side were striving to stir up the Iroquois agains[340]t the French, and the French on theirs to incite the Abenaquis against the English; the Iroquois talked peace to the French, but were working all the time to draw the Lake tribes away from their alliance; while the French commanders in the West were doing their best to keep their Indians on the war-path against the Iroquois. Intrigue reigned too among the Lake tribes; for an influential chief called the Baron was trying hard to persuade them to join the Iroquois. Some horrible treacheries and cruelties were meantime being perpetrated in that region. The French at Michilimackinac, where La Motte Cadillac had replaced Louvigny, killed two Iroquois who had been brought into the camp in the guise of prisoners, but who were suspected of being emissaries from their nation acting in collusion with the Baron. The latter and his associates were very angry at first, but in the end yielded to the French, and handed over another Iroquois, whom they had with them. The French determined, La Potherie says, to make an example of him. The Ottawas were invited "to drink the broth of an Iroquois," which they did after the victim had been put to death with cruel tortures in which a Frenchman took the lead. Not long after four others were similarly treated. The object, of course, in getting the Ottawas and Hurons to participate in these cruelties was to render peace with the Iroquois impossible.[341]

In the summer of 1695, Frontenac carried out his long-cherished design of restoring the fort at Cataraqui. The scheme was strongly opposed by the intendant, Champigny, who had managed in some way to win the court over to his views. The expedition organized by Frontenac consisted of seven hundred men, and was placed by him under the command of the Marquis of Crisafy, a Neapolitan noble, who, as Charlevoix informs us, had been guilty of treason in his own country, and so been obliged to take service under the French king. Scarcely had the expedition started before a letter from the Comte de Pontchartrain was placed in Frontenac's hand enjoining him not to take any steps in the matter of re-establishing the fort. Anything more mal à propos could scarcely have happened. Had Frontenac been a timid man, he would have sent a messenger after Crisafy, and ordered him back; but his service of many years in many lands had accustomed the veteran to taking responsibility; and, persuaded as he was that he knew better what the interest of the country required than the king and the minister put together, he allowed the expedition to proceed. Within a month it had returned to Montreal after having put the fort once more in a condition of defence at a cost of sixteen thousand francs. Forty-eight men were left behind as a garrison. Frontenac had now a base for the operations which he felt sure would be required against the Iroquois, and which in point of fact were carried out in the following year. The king, on hearing of what had[342] been done, did not censure the governor, but merely asked him to consider carefully, in consultation with M. de Champigny, whether it was really for the advantage of the colony that the fort should be maintained. In the interest of harmony the court had for some time followed the practice of writing to the governor and the intendant jointly, and requiring them to make joint despatches. Notwithstanding this prudent arrangement, each of the high officials managed to bring his own private views before the minister or the king, as the case might be. In joint consultations the will of Frontenac was pretty sure to carry the day. His fort henceforth was safe.

We may now, while a desultory and not very eventful warfare is being waged between the colony and its traditional enemy, the Iroquois, and while negotiations and intrigues are being carried on in triangular fashion between the French, their allies, and the common foe, turn for a few moments to another field, a far distant one, in which Canadian enterprise, bravery, and military aptitude won repeated successes, and, on one occasion at least, performed deeds of lasting renown. We have already related the expedition under M. de Troyes to Hudson's Bay in the summer of 1686 in which Iberville and his brother Ste. Hélène took part. Troyes returned to Quebec in the same year, and, as we have seen, joined Denonville's campaign against the Senecas. Iberville seems to have remained in the Hudson's Bay country till the following[343] year, for we hear of his returning to Quebec in the fall of 1687 with a large amount of booty in the way of furs. The Hudson's Bay Company of England, in a petition which they addressed to the king asking for redress, put the amount of loss they had sustained by this expedition at £50,000, quite probably an over-valuation. After this adventure Iberville, in company with his brother Maricourt, seems to have gone to France; but two years later both are in the bay again defending Fort Albany against an English vessel. Later in the year, in the absence of Iberville, who had gone to Quebec with a cargo of furs, the English possessed themselves of the fort; but, returning in the summer of 1690, he wrested it from them again, and again sailed to Quebec with furs, this time to the value of 80,000 francs. The next year he went to France, and in July 1692 returned with two French vessels L'Envieuse and Le Poli, destined for operations in Hudson's Bay. As he did not reach Quebec, however, till the 18th August, it was considered that the season was too far advanced for an attempt in that quarter; and the vessels were consequently diverted to Acadia in order that they might operate against the newly erected fort at Pemaquid. As stated in our last chapter, the expedition proved a failure. In the following year Le Poli, which Iberville had taken back to France, was sent out again to Canada with a companion vessel, L'Indiscret. It was intended that they should proceed to Hudson's Bay, but they only arrived at[344] Quebec on the 22nd July, and, as the king had expressly stipulated that Le Poli should return to France that year, every practical man in Canada saw at once that she at least could not take part in the expedition. Then could there be any expedition? It was at first proposed that Iberville should make the best he could of L'Indiscret and an English ship he had captured on the way out, the Mary Sarah; and a number of French captains who were in port at the time were formed into a commission to report on the matter from a practical point of view. Their report, made on the 7th August, was unfavourable as regarded both vessels. L'Indiscret does not seem to have had any armament, and though guns could have been provided for her at Quebec, the captains doubted whether either decks or hull were strong enough to admit of her conversion into an effective fighting ship, or indeed whether she was suitable at all for northern navigation. As to the Mary Sarah, she was a very poor sailer, and would only prove an embarrassment. Iberville, who of course expected, if he went, to winter in the bay, said he must have a full year's provisions for the party; and one of the points the captains inquired into was whether there was accommodation in the ships for all the stores required. As one of the necessities of the voyage they put down 154 barriques of wine, or, alternatively, 38 of brandy. As the barrique contains something over 50 gallons, the estimate was for about 2000 gallons of brandy, not an illiberal al[345]lowance. The upshot of the matter was that there was no expedition that year, and that the English had all their own way in the bay, capturing once more the fort at Albany, together with furs to the value, as stated, of 150,000 francs, the property of the Compagnie du Nord.

The news of this serious loss arrived at Quebec in August just after the idea of an expedition had been abandoned, and was carried to France by M. de Serigny, one of Iberville's brothers. The French government thereupon determined to organize a strong force for the purpose of securely establishing French supremacy in those northern waters. Serigny was accordingly sent back to Quebec in the summer of 1694, with instructions to Frontenac to lend as many soldiers as he could spare for the enterprise. No time was lost in executing the order. On the 10th August Iberville with Serigny and another brother M. de Châteauguay, and over a hundred picked Canadians set sail for Hudson's Bay in two frigates of twenty and thirty guns respectively. The first point of attack was to be Port Nelson on the west side of the bay, garrisoned by about fifty English, and mounting thirty-six cannon. Having arrived at the place on the 24th September, Iberville demanded its surrender, which was refused. The assailants had much the advantage in strength, and on the 13th October the fort surrendered. The Canadians took up their quarters there for the winter; and when summer came Iberville decided to wait in the neighbour[346]hood in the hope of capturing one or two English trading vessels which were expected to arrive. None came, however, and he set sail in September, leaving La Forest in charge with sixty men. Contrary winds rendering his return to Canada difficult, he steered his course for France, and arrived safely at Rochelle, where he wrote out a full account of his adventures and achievements.

It was related in the last chapter how, in the following year (1696), Iberville, in conjunction with Saint-Castin and the neighbouring Indians, had captured and destroyed the English fort of Pemaquid, on the west side of what is now Penobscot Bay. His instructions were, as soon as this had been accomplished, to sail for Newfoundland, take St. John's, and harry the English settlements strewn along the eastern coast. This enterprise had been carefully prepared beforehand, and a number of fishing vessels from St. Malo had been armed for the purpose. There was a French governor stationed at Placentia, M. de Brouillan, to whom instructions had been sent to co-operate with M. d'Iberville. All accounts agree in saying that this officer was a man of an extremely surly and jealous temper. Anxious to win the glory and profit of capturing St. John's without assistance, he did not await the arrival of Iberville before setting out on the enterprise. With the help of the St. Malo men he captured one or two English vessels; but, owing to disagreements that arose between him and his men, nothing more was accomplished. Returning t[347]o Placentia he found that Iberville with his Canadians had arrived. Some dispute arose as to who should command the combined force; finally it was agreed that Iberville should have that honour. It is doubtful whether the Canadians would have consented to serve under any other leader. The capture of St. John's was effected on the 1st December; but no booty of any consequence was taken, as some English vessels had shortly before removed everything of value. Then followed a cruel winter raid on the poor fisher-folk of the coast who were not in a condition to make any resistance. All the hamlets were burned, and the French writers say that two hundred of the English inhabitants were killed, surely a most unnecessary slaughter.

Other work and other laurels somewhat worthier of a warrior's brow were, however, awaiting the redoubtable Canadian chief. In the month of May 1697, when the desolation in Newfoundland was complete, his brother Serigny arrived from France with five ships of war, the Pelican, the Palmier, the Wasp, the Profond, and the Violent. Port Nelson had again fallen into the hands of the English; and this expedition, which Iberville was to command, had been organized for the purpose of retaking it. For trading purposes it was much the most important port on the bay, being the outlet of a vast fur-bearing region stretching towards Lake Superior. It was July before the squadron sailed from Placentia, Iberville taking command of the Pelican, and his brother of the Palmier. One ship carrying[348] stores was crushed and lost amid floating ice, though the crew were saved. The others were in great danger. When the Pelican got free her companions were nowhere to be seen, and Iberville pursued his way towards Port Nelson alone, hoping that the other vessels would make their appearance after a time. He had nearly reached his destination when three sail did heave in sight, which he took to be the missing vessels. He was soon undeceived. They were armed English merchantmen—the Hampshire, of fifty-two guns; the Daring, of thirty-six; and the Hudson's Bay, of thirty-two. The chances looked bad for the Pelican, which had but forty-four; but Iberville was accustomed to taking chances, and he did not decline the unequal fight. The French commander had the advantage of the wind, and seems not to have engaged more than one vessel at a time. After some hours of cannonading he came to close quarters with the Hampshire, and, delivering some terrible broadsides, caused her to sink in that dreary sea with all on board. The Hudson's Bay, which he next attacked, soon struck her flag, while the Daring, doing little honour or justice to her name, seized a favouring wind and escaped. The Pelican had by no means escaped Scot free. So badly shattered was she that, having stranded a few miles from the fort, and a gale having sprung up, she went to pieces. Some of the crew were lost, while, of those who reached land, a number died from cold and exhaustion. Snow was lying a foot deep on the ground; and[349] had it not been for the timely arrival of the missing vessels, the whole party would doubtless have perished, unless they could have made their way to the fort and thrown themselves on the mercy of the enemy. As it was, the work of the expedition was now proceeded with. Cannon and mortar were landed. The fort was only protected by a palisade, and though it mounted a few light cannon, it was quite unable to withstand a bombardment. The commandant, therefore, though at first he refused to surrender, was soon compelled to lower his flag. He obtained honourable terms for his garrison, but was obliged to hand over a vast quantity of furs. Iberville after this signal triumph—a triumph, as Parkman describes it, "over the storms, the icebergs, and the English"—left his brother in charge of the captured fort, and, taking the two best vessels left, sailed for France, where he arrived early in November.

The news which greeted him there was that, just about the time he was sailing from the bay, peace had been signed [54] between England and France. By the terms of the peace Louis was to acknowledge William III as rightful King of England and Anne as his successor, and to withdraw all assistance from the exiled James. As regards the colonies, the most important provision was that the status quo ante bellum should be re-established. Thus the gallant fight that Iberville had waged, one against three, and all the bitter hardships which he and hi[350]s men had endured by sea and land, had been in vain. Port Nelson and the other ports in Hudson's Bay would have to revert to the English. All boundary questions in dispute between the two nations were to be settled by commissioners appointed for that purpose.

Returning now to Canada, and going back a year and a half in our narrative, that is to say, to the early summer of 1696, we find Count Frontenac making his plans for the campaign he had for some time felt to be necessary against the Iroquois, but particularly against the most obstinately hostile nation of the confederacy, the Onondagas. He had no great reason to think that the court desired him to engage in this enterprise, for all the counsels he had lately been receiving from that quarter had been in favour of contraction rather than expansion, of peaceful rather than warlike measures. He trusted, however, that if he signally succeeded, as he expected to do, all would be not only condoned but approved, including his disobedience of orders in re-establishing Fort Frontenac the year before, a matter in regard to which he had not heard from the court as yet. The expedition as organized was one which certainly should have been adequate for the punishment of the Iroquois, if they would only stay to be punished. It consisted of four battalions of regulars of two hundred men each, and four of militia, numerically somewhat stronger. With these were five hundred mission Indians, Iroquois from the Saut, near Montreal, and Abenaquis from[351] Sillery, near Quebec. Two battalions of regulars, with most of the Indians, constituted the vanguard, which was under the command of M. de Callières. The militia, under M. de Ramesay, Governor of Three Rivers, were placed in the centre, while M. de Vaudreuil brought up the rear, consisting of the two remaining battalions of regulars and the rest of the Indians. Frontenac himself, with his staff and a number of volunteers, took a position between the van and the centre. In this order the expedition started from Lachine on the 6th July. In fifteen days it had reached Fort Frontenac, where it halted a week, awaiting the arrival of a contingent of Ottawas which La Motte Cadillac had promised to send from Michilimackinac. As this reinforcement did not arrive, the expedition pushed on, and in two days reached the mouth of the Oswego River. Here the rapids proved very difficult, and several portages were necessary. On these occasions the count, notwithstanding his seventy-five years, was prepared to foot it like the rest; but the Indians would have none of it: they raised him aloft in his canoe, "singing and yelling with joy."

On the 4th August the army reached the principal fort of the Onondagas only to find it abandoned and burnt. There was nothing to do but, as on former similar occasions, to destroy the corn. An old Onondaga Indian who had remained in the neighbourhood was captured and put to death with horrible tortures, which he endur[352]ed with the greatest fortitude; reviling his enemies with his latest breath, and calling the French "dogs," and their Indian allies "the dogs of dogs," bidding them, at the same time, to learn from him how to suffer when their turn should come. While such havoc as was possible was being wrought in the Onondaga habitations, Vaudreuil was detached from the main force to do similar damage in the country of the Oneidas. As he approached their village, some deputies of the tribe came forward to offer submission, and beg that their crops might not be destroyed, but Vaudreuil told them he had to obey his orders, and that, if they chose, they might come and dwell with the French, where they would not want for anything. While the detachment was engaged in the work of destruction news came that a force of three hundred English was marching to attack them, whereupon the Abenaquis expressed great joy, saying that they would not need to waste powder on such enemies, their tomahawks and knives would be enough. The English did not come, however. Governor Fletcher, of New York, was on the move; but, by the time he had gathered a force, he learnt that the French had gone. It is difficult to see in what respect this campaign, which was precisely of the kind that Frontenac had said a few years before he did not approve, was more effectual than that of Denonville in 1687; Frontenac, nevertheless, represented it to the king as a notable victory. He could be pious in his phraseology when [353]he liked; and he wrote that the Iroquois had been smitten at his approach with a panic which could only have come from Heaven. The Iroquois were surely in hard luck in having to fight, at the same moment, human foes in superior numbers, and armed with superior weapons, and celestial ones capable of paralyzing their faculties in the moment of their greatest need. But not more actively did the gods and goddesses of Olympus intervene on the plain of Troy on behalf of well-greaved Greeks or horse-taming Trojans than did the higher powers, if we can trust the narratives of the time, on behalf of the well-musketed Canadians.

On the 10th August the return journey was begun, and on the 20th the army reached Montreal. Some lives had been lost in the rapids; otherwise there had been no casualties. In concluding his letter to the king, Frontenac, after praising the officers under his command, particularly M. de Callières, put in a modest word for himself: "I do not know whether your Majesty will consider that I have tried to do my duty, and, if so, whether you will judge me worthy of some mark of honour such as may enable me to live the brief remainder of my life in some distinction. However your Majesty may decide, I must humbly beg you to believe that I am prepared to sacrifice the remainder of my days in your Majesty's service with the same ardour which I have always hitherto displayed." His Majesty was graciously pleased to say in reply, by the mouth[354] of the minister, that he was entirely satisfied with the count's expedition against the Onondagas and Oneidas, and with his whole conduct. After dealing with other matters the minister added: "Until his Majesty has it in his power to bestow on you more marked proofs of his satisfaction, he has granted you his Military Order of St. Louis, and you will find herewith his permission to you to wear its cross." This was a distinction of which his subordinate Callières, as well as M. de Vaudreuil and the intendant, Champigny, were already in enjoyment; yet it was all that the very decided merit of M. de Frontenac was able to extract. It is said that the violent take the kingdom of heaven by force; but it is also said that the meek shall inherit the earth. Frontenac tried to make his way by dint of self-assertion, but in the end his success was only moderate. The enemies whom he thrust aside, or cowed into silence, could whisper at opportune moments, and their whispers did him no good; while sometimes they could secure gratifications for themselves decidedly worth having.

Various inconclusive negotiations for peace followed the Onondaga campaign; and things dragged on in this way till news came in January 1698, though not through an authorized channel, of the signing of the Peace of Ryswick. The officer in command at Albany, Peter Schuyler, had deputed Captain John Schuyler and one Dellius to carry the news to Callières at Montreal. Frontenac received it at Quebec a few days later. The[355] messengers stated that a new governor was coming out to New York—the Earl of Bellomont—and mentioned that instructions had been given to their Indians to cease their warfare against the French. Frontenac sent a reply stating that he would have to await confirmation of the news from his own government; but he did not think it well to recognize that part of the message which assumed, on the part of the English, authority over the Iroquois. Early in the following June (1698) Schuyler and Dellius came, bringing some twenty French prisoners of all ages, and also a letter from the Earl of Bellomont to Frontenac, forwarding copies in French and Latin of the treaty of peace, and proposing that Frontenac should give up all his Iroquois prisoners to him, undertaking, on his part, to secure the restoration of all the French prisoners whom the Iroquois might be holding. This brought things to an issue. Frontenac replied in firm but courteous terms, saying that, although he was still without advices from his government, he was prepared to hand over all English prisoners in his custody, but that he could not understand how his Lordship could have instructed his delegates to ask for the return of the Iroquois prisoners. The Iroquois had been uninterruptedly subjects of the French king from a time prior to the taking of New York by the English from the Dutch. So far as they were concerned, therefore, the Earl of Bellomont need not give himself any trouble, as they were su[356]ing for peace, had engaged to restore all their French prisoners, and had given hostages for the fulfilment of their promise. He also referred, as a further proof of French authority, to the missions which they had maintained among the Iroquois for over forty years. This letter was dated 8th June. Bellomont replied on the 13th August, manifesting much irritation at Frontenac's refusal to recognize the Iroquois as English subjects, and consequently covered by the peace. He told Frontenac that he had sent word to those nations to be on their guard, that he had furnished them with arms and munitions of war, and promised them assistance in case they were attacked. As to the Jesuit missionaries, the Indians had repeatedly entreated him "to expel those gentlemen from amongst them," their wish being "to have some of our Protestant ministers among them, instead of your missionaries, in order for their instruction in the Christian religion." Here was a pretty quarrel right on the head of a peace! Frontenac replied with his customary firmness, saying that he would pursue his course unflinchingly and insist on the fulfilment by the Iroquois of the engagement they had entered into before the declaration of peace. He referred to the fact that commissioners were to be appointed to decide questions of boundary, and said that, such being the case, the earl had taken too absolute a position. Here the correspondence ended so far as Frontenac was concerned. He was fighting in a losing cause, for the claim of En[357]gland to the territory in dispute was shortly afterwards recognized. He could, however, at least say that the cause was not lost through him; to the last he maintained with courage, resolution, and dignity, what he held to be the rights of his sovereign. As regards the formal establishment of peace with the Iroquois it was not to be in his time. His last despatch to the court bears date the 25th October. He tells the minister that the Iroquois, who had promised to come and conclude peace and bring back their prisoners, have not yet done so, and that he has no doubt they are held back by the Earl of Bellomont. The minister answers that, to prevent a continuation of disputes, he had consented that the tribes in question should remain undisturbed and enjoy the peace concluded at Ryswick. The boundary question would be settled in due time by the commissioners appointed for that purpose.

This reply Count Frontenac was not destined to see. Three months, indeed, before it was penned the curtain had fallen upon his eager, strenuous, and, broadly speaking, honourable life. About the middle of November he fell ill. He was in his seventy-ninth year. In a few days, if not from the first, he knew that he had passed into the shadow of death, that he was at last meeting One whom he could not conquer. The old man made all his arrangements with admirable calmness. On the 22nd November he sent for the notary to make his will. He expressed a desire to be buried[358], not in the cathedral church, but in that of the Récollets, whose milder theology had best suited his practical and somewhat Erastian turn of mind. He makes pecuniary provision for a daily mass on his behalf for one year, and a yearly one thereafter on the anniversary of his death, Mme. de Frontenac to share in it after her death. His heart was to be placed in a chapel of the Church of St. Nicolas des Champs at Paris, where the remains of his sister, Mme. de Monmort, were already reposing. A merchant of Quebec, François Hazeur, and his private secretary, are named as his executors. He requests Champigny to support his friends in having his wishes carried out. He bequeaths to him a crucifix of aloes wood, and to Mme. de Champigny a reliquary. The bishop, M. de Saint Vallier, came to see him several times during his illness, as also did the intendant; death, not for the first time, was acting the part of reconciler. It was rather expected by the clerical party that, in his last moments, the old warrior would express deep contrition for his deficiencies on the religious side and his frequent opposition to the policy of the church; but in this they were disappointed. "God gave him full time," says an anonymous critic of the period, who has annotated very harshly the funeral sermon preached over his remains, "to recognize his errors, and yet to the last he showed a great indifference in all these matters. In a word, he behaved during the few days before his death like one who had led an irreproachable life and[359] had nothing to fear." The last rites of religion were administered by the Récollet father, Olivier Goyer, and on the 28th November 1698, retaining his faculties to the last, the veteran passed peacefully away.

What manner of man he was, this narrative, it may be trusted, has in some measure shown. Compounded of faults and virtues, his was a character that appealed strongly to average human nature. Common people understood, admired and trusted him. His faults were those common, everyday ones,[55] which it is not impossible to forgive; and he had the more than compensating virtues of courage, decision, simplicity, underlying kindliness, and humour. His nature, vehement, turbulent, and self-asserting throughout his early and middle manhood, was gaining towards the end that ripeness in which, according to Shakespeare, lies the whole significance of life. The Abbé Gosselin has defined with great exactness his attitude towards religion. "Frontenac," he says, "was a Christian and a religious man after the fashion of his time, and as people generally are in the great world; attached to the church, but with all the Gallican ideas of the period, according to which the church was only a dependency of the state; making it a point of honour to discharge the duties incumbent on a gentleman and a Christian, but drawing a clear distinction between the demands of duty and those of perfection."[56] The late Abbé V[360]erreau, quoted by Gosselin in his Life of Laval, has a few words of mingled praise and blame, which, perhaps, in their general effect are not far from the truth. "The harsh doctrines of Jansenism," he says, "and domestic troubles had infused into his nature something unrefined which the outward manners of the aristocrat did not entirely conceal. . . . When, however, he yielded to the natural bent of his mind, he attracted every one by the intellectual grace and charm of his conversation. . . . His ambition was to be in New France the reflection of the great monarch who ruled in Old France." The Abbé probably exaggerates the effect of Jansenist doctrines upon the mind of Frontenac, and also that of his conjugal difficulties; but he rightly discerns an element in his character which clashed with his finer and more distinguished qualities.

There is no known extant portrait of Frontenac. For many years a certain photograph was sold at Quebec as representing him on his death-bed, and was reproduced in different works relating to Canadian history. Parkman, the historian, sent it to the late M. Pierre Margry of Paris, the well-known authority on early Canadian history, who at once pronounced that it was not a portrait of Frontenac at all, but had been taken from one of the illustrations published in Lavater's celebrated work on physiognomy, the original being a[361] German professor of the name of Heidegger. How it ever came to pass for a portrait of Frontenac remains a mystery. The matter is fully discussed in Mr. Ernest Myrand's work, Sir William Phipps devant Quebec. So far as appears, it was through a correspondence between Mr. Myrand and M. Pierre Margry, that the fact of the unauthenticity of the alleged portrait of Frontenac first became known in Canada.

The funeral sermon over the deceased governor was preached by the Récollet father who had attended his death-bed, and the manuscript of it is still preserved in the library of Laval University. The eulogium of the sympathetic father may here and there be a little forced; but surely a generous meed of praise was due to the man who, when past the meridian of life, had undertaken and borne unflinchingly for many years the burden of so difficult and dangerous an administration as that of Canada. The manuscript has been annotated by an anonymous and unfriendly ecclesiastical hand, one of whose criticisms is quoted above. The critic's point of view is further indicated by the comment on the preacher's statement that Frontenac diligently practised the reading of spiritual books. "As for his reading, it was often Jansenist books, of which he had a great many, and which he greatly praised and lent freely to others." The odium theologicum here is not difficult to discern. The people, however, who cared little for theological subtleties and animosities, but who judged[362] their fallen chief as a man and an administrator, mourned him sincerely. His death was announced by the intendant to the king in words that are almost touching; and Callières, a good soldier, and a man after his own heart, ruled in his stead.

INDEX

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Histoire de la Colonie Française en Canada, vol. i. p. 79.

[2] According to the Jesuit Relations for 1643-4, the Hurons cried out in their despair: "The Iroquois, our mortal enemies, do not believe in God, have no love for prayer, commit all kinds of crimes, and nevertheless they prosper. We, since we have abandoned the customs of our fathers, are slaughtered and burnt, our villages are destroyed. What good do we get by lending ear to the Gospel, if conversion and death walk hand in hand?" Garneau, who quotes this passage, adds: "One tribe of them that had counted its warriors by hundreds was now reduced to thirty."

[3] Les Jésuites et la Nouvelle France. Vol. i. Introduction, p. xv. More than two centuries earlier the pious Superior of the Ursuline Convent, Mère de l'Incarnation, had referred, in her own gentle way, to their incompleteness. "If," she says, "any one is disposed to conclude that the labours of the convent are useless because no mention is made of them in the Relations, the inference must equally be drawn that Monseigneur the Bishop is useless; that his Seminary is useless; that the Seminary of the Jesuit fathers themselves is useless; that the ecclesiastics of Montreal are useless; and that finally the Hospital nuns are useless; because of none of these persons or things do the Relations say a word. Nothing is mentioned save what relates to the progress of the Gospel; and, even so, lots of things are cut out after the record gets to France."—Letires Spirituelles, edition of 1681, p. 259.

[4] Jesuits in North America, chap. xv.

[5] See the excellent monograph by M. Thos. Chapais, Jean Talon, Intendant de la Nouvelle France, Quebec, 1904.

[6] See particularly the interesting work of Mr. Ernest Myrand, Frontenac et ses Amis, Quebec, 1902.

[7] It was not till 1717 that the merchants of Montreal and Quebec were allowed to meet and discuss business affairs.

[8] Quoted by Faillon, vol. iii. p. 432.

[9] This office was held by Colbert (in connection with a general control of marine, finance, and public works) from 1669 to the date of his death, 6th September 1683; by his son, the Marquis of Seignelay, from 1683 to the date of his own death, 3rd November 1690; and from that time to the conclusion of the period covered by this narrative by the Marquis of Pontchartrain.

[10] Through the influence of Talon, the king was induced in the year 1668 to sign a decree permitting the Récollets to return to Canada, and reinstating them in their former possessions. Père Leclercq, Récollet, says they were very much wanted. "For thirty years," to quote his words, "complaint was made in Canada that consciences were being burdened; and the more the colony increased in population the greater was the outcry. I sincerely hope that there was no real occasion for it, and that the great rigour of the [Jesuit] clergy was useful and necessary. Still the Frenchman loves liberty, and under all skies is opposed to constraint, even in religion."

[11] He had been speaking of the slow growth of the population of Canada.

[12] Père Leclercq, Premier Etablissement de la Foi, vol. ii. p. 117.

[13] It was no doubt in large measure due to the extraordinary physical vitality of the French race in Canada that so strong a tendency was manifested towards this reversion, which of course was facilitated by the general condition of life in a country that was little else than forest. "L'école buissonnière" was at every one's door, and the men of the colony were not alone in feeling the call of the wild. Mère Marie de l'Incarnation, in her Lettres Spirituelles says: "Sans l'éducation que nous donnons aux filles françaises qui sont un peu grandes, durant l'espace de six mois environ, elles seraient des brutes pires que les sauvages; c'est pourquoi on nous les donne presque toutes, les unes après les autres." See Ferland's Cours d'Histoire du Canada, vol. ii. p. 85, who quotes this passage without any reference to page. Passages of similar purport may, however, be found on pp. 231 and 258 of the first edition (1681) of the Lettres Spirituelles.

[14] Mr. P. T. Bedard, in his lecture on Frontenac, published in the Annuaire of the Institut Canadien of Quebec for 1880 speaks of Frontenac's "duplicity" in this matter, a stronger term than the facts seem to justify.

[15] Vol. iii. pp. 446-52.

[16] Le Comte de Frontenac, p. 159.

[17] It is to be found in Margry, Mémoires et Documents des Origines Françaises des Pays d'Outre Mer, vol. i. pp. 301-25.

[18] See Report (Procès Verbal) of the proceedings of the assembly in Margry, Mémoires et Documents, vol. i. pp. 405-20.

[19] He had been charged some years before by a commissioner sent out by the Company of the Hundred Associates with embezzlement, and had taken part in a violent attack on the commissioner and in the seizure of his papers.

[20] Vie de Colbert, vol. i. p. 502.

[21] Quoted by Gaillardin, Histoire du Règne de Louis XIV, vol. iv. p. 311.

[22] See extract from a letter written by him in Faillon, vol. iii. p. 315. The Récollet, Père Leclercq, is uncharitable enough to hint that the canoe accident may have been made to cover a lack of the documents which the explorer professed to have had with him.

[23] See the Recit d'un ami de l'Abbé Galinée, in Margry, vol. i.

[24] Mère de l'Incarnation remarked even in her day the decrease of the native population. "When we arrived in this country," she says, "the Indians were so numerous that it seemed as if they were going to grow into a vast population; but after they were baptized God called them to Himself either by disease or by the hands of the Iroquois. It was perhaps His wise design to permit their death lest their hearts should turn to wickedness."—Lettres Spirituelles, edition of 1681, p. 230.

[25] Colden pithily sums up the result of the campaign in the following words: "Thus a very chargeable and fatiguing expedition (which was to strike terror of the French name into the stubborn hearts of the Five Nations) ended in a scold between the French general and an old Indian."

[26] Saint Vallier, Etat présent de l'Eglise et de la Colonie Française, p. 84.

[27] New York Colonial Documents, vol. ix. p. 268. See also "Transactions between England and France, relating to Hudson's Bay, 1687," in Canadian Archives, 1883, p. 173.

[28] Clément, Vie de Colbert, p. 456.

[29] "In dealing with indigenous races," observes M. Lorin, "governors were sometimes obliged to sacrifice a few victims to the ferocity of savages; and it was not on the eve of a campaign that it would have been wise to exhibit towards the Iroquois a humanity that would have been mistaken for weakness."—Comte de Frontenac, p. 333. We may certainly agree that it would have been difficult for those who had captured peaceful and unsuspecting natives for the horrible régime of the galleys to adopt a high humanitarian tone in reproving the cruelties of their Indian confederates and converts.

[30] New York Colonial Documents, vol. ix. p. 389.

[31] See his Lake St. Louis, Old and New.

[32] Both as regards the number of the slain and the details of the massacre Charlevoix simply repeats the statements made by Frontenac in a despatch dated the 15th November 1689, one month after his return to Canada, and after several days spent at the scene of the disaster and at Montreal. It is he who speaks of the "enlèvement de cent vingt personnes après un massacre de deux cents brûlés, rôtis vifs, mangés, et les enfans arrachés du ventre de leurs mères." The tendency in furnishing information to the French government was always to exaggerate the havoc wrought by the Indians. At the time Frontenac wrote this despatch he was not aware of the further massacre at La Chesnaye, the news of which only reached him on the 17th of November.

[33] Frontenac et ses Amis, p. 93.

[34] Comte de Frontenac, p. 358.

[35] Far from yielding to Frontenac's view of the matter, Denonville doggedly adhered to his own opinion that the fort ought to be entirely abandoned; and, when it was found that it had only been partly destroyed, he wrote to the king advising that Frontenac should be ordered to send up three hundred men with instructions to demolish it utterly.

[36] Parkman tells the story in his usual brilliant manner in chapter iii. of his Old Régime in Canada. Père Charlevoix gives the facts and adds: "Je l'ai vu en 1721, âgé de quatre-vingt ans, plein de forces et de santé; toute la colonie rendant hommage à sa vertu et à son mérite," vol. ii. p. 111, edition of 1744.

[37] New York Colonial Documents, p. 464.

[38] Perrot and his party, according to Monseignat's narrative, left the end of the Island of Montreal on the 22nd May. The Albany—or more correctly Schenectady party, for they did not venture to attack Albany—returned towards the end of March. Frontenac's message must have been composed some months before Perrot's departure, otherwise he would undoubtedly have mentioned with pride the Schenectady massacre. It was certainly not up to date.

[39] "There was little resistance," says Père Chrétien Leclercq, a contemporary writer, "except at one house, where Sieur de Marque Montigny was wounded; but Sieur de Ste. Hélène, having come up, all were slaughtered with sword or tomahawk, the Indians sparing no one."—Premier Etablissement de la Foi.

[40] Documentary History of New York, vol. ii. pp. 164-9.

[41] New York Colonial Documents, vol. ix. p. 440. See also Lorin, Comte de Frontenac, chap. x.

[42] Comte de Frontenac, p. 367.

[43] Names given by the Indians to the governors of New York and Massachusetts; Corlaer being a corruption of Cuyler, a Dutchman of the early period held in high honour by them, and Kishon signifying "The Fish."

[44] See "Winthrop's Journal" in New York Colonial Documents, vol. iv. p. 193.

[45] The letter is given in Cotton Mather's Magnalia, vol. i. p. 186.

[46] New York Colonial Documents, vol. ix. p. 486.

[47] The same mistake was destined to be made in later days, more than once, under the English régime.

[48] "La Canardière (the name given to the flats where the New Englanders landed) was in those days nothing but a horrible marsh, covered with impenetrable woods thickly fringed with underbrush. So dense was the thicket that in full daylight our skirmishers were invisible to the English, who in their exasperation had nothing to guide them in firing but the smoke of their enemies' muskets."—Myrand, Sir William Phipps devant Quebec, p. 271.

[49] Premier Etablissement de la Foi, vol. ii. p. 434. As Leclercq is the one authority of importance of whom Mr. Myrand, in his discussion of this matter, makes no mention, his exact words, which I have not elsewhere seen reproduced, may be quoted: "L'amiral le suivit (le contre-amiral) d'assez près et avec précipitation; il fila tout le cable de son ancre qu'il abandonna; son pavillon fut emporté dans la rivière et laissé à notre discrétion, que nos gens allèrent pêcher."

[50] In his work already quoted, Sir William Phipps devant Quebec, Mr. Myrand goes very carefully, and in a spirit of great impartiality, into the question of the probable losses on the New England side. Those on the Canadian side he is able to establish by means of authentic records. Mr. Myrand has laid his readers under great obligations by reprinting the principal original documents bearing on the Phipps expedition, as well as by his own intelligent discussion of the whole episode.

[51] As Belmont was a very ardent enemy of the drink traffic he may have been a little inclined to exaggerate in these matters.

[52] Chapter xiv.

[53] The Baron de Saint-Castin had come to Canada in 1665 as an ensign in the Carignan-Salières Regiment, being then only in his seventeenth year. On the disbanding of the regiment he had gone to Acadia, and betaken himself to the life of the woods. He became a famous hunter and trader, and acquired great influence over the Indian tribes. The chief Madocawando, as above mentioned, was his father-in-law, but he had others.

[54] The Peace of Ryswick, 20th September 1697.

[55] Τὰ κοινὰ τῶν ἀνθρώπων πάθη.—Aristotle, Rhet. vii.

[56] Monseigneur de Saint Vallier et son Temps, p. 32.

THE MAKERS OF CANADA

COUNT FRONTENAC

BY

WILLIAM D. LE SUEUR

TORONTO

MORANG & CO., LIMITED

1909

PREFACE

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER I

CANADA BEFORE FRONTENAC

1608 TO 1632

CHAPTER II

CANADA BEFORE FRONTENAC

1632 TO 1672

CHAPTER III

THE BEGINNING OF FRONTENAC'S ADMINISTRATION

CHAPTER IV

THE COMMENCEMENT OF TROUBLES

CHAPTER V

DIVIDED POWER

CHAPTER VI

THE LIFE OF A COLONY

CHAPTER VII

GOVERNORSHIP OF M. DE LA BARRE

1682 TO 1685

CHAPTER VIII

GOVERNORSHIP OF MARQUIS DE DENONVILLE

1685 TO 1689

CHAPTER IX

FRONTENAC TO THE RESCUE

CHAPTER X

FRONTENAC DEFENDER OF CANADA

CHAPTER XI

FIRE AND SWORD ON THE BORDER

CHAPTER XII

THE DRAMA OF WAR—PEACE AT THE LAST

INDEX

INDEX

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

FOOTNOTES:

COUNT
FRONTENAC