CHAPTER V

ROYAL GOVERNMENT

In the year 1660 the French population of Quebec numbered something

over six hundred. The fur company continued to drive a fair trade in

peltries, but the prosperity of the city itself was woefully retarded

by the constant menace of the Iroquois. The Baron d'Avaugour held the

office of Governor, and his strong sense of military authority brought

him into conflict with the Church, by this time become the real

controller of the State. This revered power was still further to

impose its authority and influence through and by the person of

François-Xavier Laval, the first Bishop of Canada, a man of as great

ability as piety, an ecclesiastical statesman trained in the school of

Mazarin. His career gives significance to a later epoch.

The fur traders had always found brandy their most attractive

commodity in dealing with the thirsty savage; and Père Lalement gives

a sad picture of the misery entailed. "They have brought themselves

to nakedness," he writes, "and their families to beggary. They have

even gone so far as to sell their children to procure the means of

satisfying their raging passion. I cannot describe the evils caused by

these disorders to the infant Church. My ink is not black enough to

paint them in proper colours. It would require the gall of the dragon

to express the bitterness we have experienced from them. It may

suffice to say that we lose in one month the fruits of the toil and

labour of thirty years." Accordingly, the Church now decided to

prohibit it entirely, and a law was passed making it a capital

offence. Two men paid the extreme penalty; and a woman also was

condemned to the scaffold. When, however, the clergy interfered to

save her, the rigorous but consistent D'Avaugour declared he would

punish no more breaches of this law. Brandy now flowed like water, and

the thunder of the pulpit was henceforth disregarded. Exasperated by

this treatment, the priests carried their grievance to the Louvre,

where they received little satisfaction.

[Illustration: COLBERT]

In the same year a deputy of another sort journeyed to France. Pierre

Boucher's mission was to lay before the King the desperate condition

of the colony, particularly in the matter of defence. Louis XIV. had

but recently ascended the throne of the Bourbons, and Richelieu and

Mazarin had been in turn succeeded by Colbert as the royal adviser.

The envoy from Quebec was presently received at the Court, and the

tale of suffering and neglect which he unfolded convinced Colbert that

the Company of One Hundred Associates was scandalously evading the

obligations imposed by its charter. Accordingly, in 1663, a royal

edict went forth revoking its powers and privileges. This was a

turning-point in the history of New France; for although the company

founded by Richelieu was succeeded by an unwieldy corporation of

Colbert's design, from this time forward the Crown itself took over

the control of the distant colony.

The Grand Monarch, indeed, took a finely comprehensive view of his

position. He held himself in every sense the father of his people, and

by a nice condescension the citizens of Quebec were included in the

patriarchal fold. The far-away city on the borders of the world was no

longer to be abandoned to the avaricious whims of a trading company:

the King himself would now take it under his royal care. Daniel de

Rémy, Sieur de Courcelles, was appointed Governor, with Jean Baptiste

Talon as Intendant; and the valorous Marquis de Tracy was commissioned

to New France as the King's personal representative, with instructions

to settle the domestic friction of the colony, and to deal a fatal

blow to the Iroquois, the "scourge of Canada."

* * * * *

On the 30th of June, 1665, De Tracy's caravels cast anchor in the

basin of Quebec, the ships of De Courcelles and the Intendant being

still at sea. The cannon of Fort St. Louis boomed a welcome down the

gorge of the St. Lawrence, while the eager burghers crowded the

ramparts and prepared to welcome the most distinguished company in the

most brilliant pageant yet seen upon the soil of New France.

The royal pennant flew at the flag-ship's masthead, and the decks were

thronged with the brilliant uniforms of the regiment of

Carignan-Salières, whom the King had sent to destroy the enemies of

New France. In the midst stood the stately Marquis, gorgeous in

vice-regal robes and attended by a suite of nobles and gallants from

the court of Fontainebleau. The mysteries and wonders of the West had

stirred the romantic minds of the volatile courtiers, and the mission

to convert New France to the Catholic faith gave to De Tracy's

expedition the complexion of a mediæval crusade.

Presently the gaily-decked pinnace drew in to the landing-stage of the

Cul-de-sac, where stood the notables of the New World city. Bishop

Laval in pontificals, surrounded by the priests of his diocese,

awaited the royal envoy at the top of Mountain Hill, which was then

the only practicable highway between the Lower and the Upper Town.

To-day the visitor landing at the quay reaches the terrace by the same

route; but the present graceful declivity of Mountain Hill is little

like the tortuous pathway of corduroy by which De Tracy and his

glittering retinue made their toilsome way to the public square by the

Jesuits' College. First came a company of guards in the royal livery,

then four pages and six valets, and by the side of the King's

Lieutenant-General, resplendent in gold lace and gay ribbons, walked

the young nobles of his train. The cathedral bells pealed forth

joyously, and the _Te Deum_ began a day of public rejoicing.

The vessels bearing the new Governor and Intendant, however, suffered

the most hapless violence. Talon's ship was 117 days at sea, and De

Courcelles' was hardly more fortunate; but at length they, too, cast

anchor beneath the rocky battlement, and Quebec was now flooded with

soldiers of the regiment of Carignan-Salières. These bronzed veterans

of Savoy came to New France fresh from the Turkish wars, and the sight

of their plumed helmets and leathern bandoleers, as they marched

through the narrow streets, promised the colonists a speedy riddance

of their enemies. The health of Louis XIV. was nowhere in his broad

dominions drunk more heartily than in Quebec.

At the close of the year extensive preparations were made for the

chastisement of the Iroquois. De Courcelles had determined upon a

stroke of almost foolhardy boldness: to march over the snow into the

country of the Mohawks, a distance of three hundred leagues. Thick ice

had formed on the St. Lawrence, and on the 9th of January the

audacious Governor set off at the head of his fiery columns.

Officers and men alike shared the burdens of transport, but the

soldiers of Europe were embarrassed by the unaccustomed snow-shoes

which the deep snow forced them to use. Some got no farther than

Three Rivers, but the more hardy held their way up the valley of the

Richelieu to Lake Champlain and across the Hudson. An unfortunate

circumstance, however, had deprived them of guides, and all efforts to

find and surprise the Mohawk towns proved unsuccessful. Wandering by

mistake beyond Saratoga Lake, they came near to the Dutch village of

Corlaer,[7] where, half-frozen and half-starved, they bivouacked in

the neighbouring woods. A few days later envoys appeared from Albany

to demand why the French had invaded the territories of the Duke of

York; and then, for the first time, De Courcelles learned that the New

Netherlands had passed into English hands.

De Courcelles' explanation was courteously accepted, and having been

supplied with provisions, he prepared to retrace his steps to Quebec.

His intended victims, the Mohawks, harassed the retreat, killing and

taking prisoners; while sixty of his men perished from hunger and

exposure before he came in sight of the St. Lawrence, and many more

fell before he reached Quebec.

In spite of apparent failure, however, this expedition, like that

undertaken by Daulac, had a good effect upon the Iroquois, who had

come to regard themselves as too remote for French assault.

[Footnote 7: Now Schenectady.]

They now sent embassies to Quebec seeking a treaty of peace, an idea

to which, naturally, the French were not opposed. But the occasion was

too much for Iroquois malice and lust of blood; for even whilst terms

were under discussion, a band of French hunters was set upon by the

Mohawks. The Marquis de Tracy, now thoroughly aroused to the

sufferings of his countrymen, determined to strike a sudden and

crushing blow. The Iroquois deputies, still in Quebec praying for

peace, were seized and imprisoned, and a formidable force once more

prepared to invade the country of the Five Nations.

It was in early October, 1666, that De Tracy and De Courcelles left

Quebec at the head of thirteen hundred men. Of these, six hundred were

regulars of Carignan-Salières, an equal number were irregulars from

Quebec, under command of Répentigny, and a hundred Indian scouts from

the missions ranged the woods. A hundred rugged colonists, commanded

by the brave Charles le Moyne, joined the advancing column at

Montreal. With confidence this imposing force swept on to annihilate

the enemies of New France.

At the mysterious sound of the French drum-beat the Mohawks of the

first village fled in terror, and the invaders pressed on to the

second, third, and fourth towns, to find them also deserted. At

Andaraqué, their largest village, the Mohawks prepared to make a final

stand; but the first appearance of the French army and the roll of

their "devil-drums" as they emerged from the forest put the savages to

instant flight. Andaraqué, the last native stronghold, being thus

abandoned, with its stores of corn and winter supplies, the French

took what provisions they needed for their return journey, set fire to

the town, and having planted on the site a white cross in the name of

the King, they turned their faces homeward. The remaining Indian

villages were given to the flames, and although the Mohawks had

escaped with their lives, the French were content to leave them to the

severities of coming winter.

This policy was successful, for by the time spring came again, not

only the Mohawks, but their four confederate nations, were anxious to

make a sincere peace with the avenging soldiers of New France.

Hostages were exchanged, several representative chiefs remaining in

Quebec. The Jesuits again undertook the Mission of the Martyrs,

desiring both to win the savages into the fold of the Church and at

the same time to wean the Iroquois from their friendliness towards the

colonies of England, with whom the French were soon to enter into

deadly conflict for the mastery of the North American continent.

The Marquis de Tracy, having in due time fulfilled the King's

commission, embarked for France, and with him departed the glittering

_entourage_ which for almost two years had cast upon the court of

Quebec some reflection of the glories of Versailles. The regiment of

Carignan-Salières was disbanded, but its officers, for the most part,

elected to remain in Canada and accept the gift of seigneuries which

the King distributed on conditions of fealty and homage. The soldiers

settled on the fiefs as _censitaires_ and became the retainers of the

seigneurs. The feudal system, with all its antique forms, was thus

imported into French Canada, further to cripple her progress in the

race with the English colonies, where the individual was allowed to

develop freely, evolving his own laws, and creating conditions best

suited to his new estate. Talon became the royal instrument of a

system which had its beginning and end in the maintenance of kingly

authority.

Old Quebec: The Fortress of New France · 第 5 / 21 章