LIFE UNDER THE _ANCIEN RÉGIME_
For all its sombre background bright threads run through the warp and
woof of the _ancien régime_. From Normandy, Brittany, and Perche they
came, these simple folk of the St. Lawrence, to brave the dangers of
an unknown world and wrestle with primeval nature for a livelihood. If
their hands were empty their hearts were full, Gallic optimism and
child-like faith in their patron saints bringing them through untold
misfortunes with a prayer or a song upon their lips. The savage Indian
with his reeking tomahawk might break through and steal, the moth and
rust of evil administration might wear away the fortunes of New
France, yet the _habitant_ ever found joy in labour and made light of
hard circumstance.
[Illustration: THE CITY OF QUEBEC IN 1759]
In every language there is a pensive attraction in the words "the good
old days"; and even to-day the phrase brings a tear to the eye of the
French Canadian as his mind dwells on the time before the Conquest;
for while conscious of his growth in freedom and wealth, the
sentiment for past days and vanished glory obscures in his mind the
thought of these material blessings. Spirits of the _ancien régime_
still haunt the dreamy firesides of the Province, yet their presence
does not impair the loyalty of these adopted sons of Britain.
[Illustration: BARON GRANT
(Whose family represents the Barony of Longueil, the only existing
French Canadian Barony of the old _régime_)]
When Wolfe came to Quebec, the flight of a century and a half had
transformed Champlain's "Habitation" and its clustering huts into the
strongest and fairest city of the New World. Churches, convents, and
schools huddled together, and composed a varied picture upon the
uneven summit of a towering rock; cannon thrust their black muzzles
through the girdling walls of stone; and the bastioned citadel rose
over all, commanding the river, the city, and the graceful country
rolling inland from high Cape Diamond.
Sunshine reflected from the spires and towers of the town made a
beacon of hope to the peasant as he laboured on the seigneuries
leagues and leagues away. Far down the Côte de Beaupré, beyond the
Mont Ste. Anne, from the rich farms of Orleans, and across on the Lévi
shore, the glistening light on the city roofs by day, and at night the
twinkling candles in the windows, were as guiding stars to these
children in the wilderness. Twice in the early days, so their folklore
told them, miraculous intervention had saved their city from the
invader; and was she not impregnable still? And as he gazed happily
across the uplands towards his Mecca, the _habitant_ could conceive of
no power which might prevail against her stony ramparts. To this day
the emblems of their faith abound, scattered along the wayside; and
here and there a little wooden cross, set on with two or three rough
steps, invites the wayfarer to pause and pray. Bareheaded, the pilgrim
waits before the holy symbol to whisper an _Ave_ or to tell his beads.
Rough bushmen cease from riot and laughter, and touch their caps as
they pass. All down the côtes, these casual shrines exhort the simple
peasant to his twofold duty--to God and to his neighbour. Throughout
the river parishes the size and richness of the churches contrasts
strangely with the poverty of the rough-cast cottages, revealing the
devout spirit of the villagers, to whom the church stands before all
else.
[Illustration: BARONESS DE LONGUEIL
(Of the sole remaining Barony of the old _régime_)]
Seven leagues below the city of Quebec is the greatest of all these
shrines, _L'Église de la bonne Ste. Anne._ In the foreground, the wide
bosom of the St. Lawrence stretches across to the Isle of Orleans,
while Mont Ste. Anne rises in graceful lines upon the flank, making a
green background for the stone Basilica, which draws nearly two
hundred thousand pilgrims every year to its healing altars. Perhaps,
as you enter the village, the rich chimes of Ste. Anne are ringing a
processional, and the cripples are thronging through the pillared
vestibule. Some of these pious sufferers have come a thousand miles to
wait, like those in days of old, for the moving of the waters. Inside
the church, the pillars are covered with cast-off crutches, which
faithful pilgrims leave behind when they go forth healed.
The history of the shrine of Ste. Anne de Beaupré goes back almost to
the time of Champlain. A traditional account of its foundation relates
that some Breton mariners, being overtaken by a violent storm on the
St. Lawrence, vowed a sanctuary to Ste. Anne if she would but bring
them safe to shore. Their prayers were heard, and forthwith they
raised a little wooden chapel at Petit-Cap, seven leagues below
Quebec. History, however, gives 1658 as the date of the first chapel
of Ste. Anne; and it was while engaged in its construction that Louis
Guimont became the subject of the first miraculous cure. Other cures
rapidly followed, and soon the shrine became renowned for its
miracles. The Marquis de Tracy made two pilgrimages; and Anne of
Austria, the mother of Louis XIV. accorded her patronage, sending to
the little chapel a vestment embroidered by herself.
[Illustration: UPPER TOWN MARKET TO-DAY]
During two and a half centuries the church of Ste. Anne has been
several times rebuilt. The present imposing structure dates from 1886,
and has been raised by the Pope to the rank of a Basilica Minor.
Beaupré has become the Lourdes of the New World, where the halt, the
maimed, the sick, and the blind piously contend together in effort to
reach the healing shrine.
In the old days once or twice a week, according to the season and the
distance of the city, the peasant made his way to Quebec, to take up
his stand on the market-place, and sell his produce to the
townspeople. The practice still survives, and on a Saturday half the
women of Upper Town busily drive their bargains outside St. John's
Gate, while at the river's brink Champlain Market is equally alive.
When the ancient Seigneur came to town his sword was upon his thigh,
and he wore his smartest toilet of peruke, velvet, and lace. The
Château upon the cliff was his Versailles, and hither came the quality
of the district to pay their court and attend the receptions of the
Governor. The Seigneur's wife was gowned according to the latest
intelligence from Paris, with _coiffe poudre_, court-plaster, ribbons,
and fan. She could curtsey with fine grace and dance the stately
minuet; and her sprightly conversation was the amazement of those
visitors who have recorded their impressions of Quebec. La Potherie,
in 1698, and Charlevoix, in 1720, both remarked upon the purity of the
French language as spoken in these _salons_ of the far-distant West.
In spite of clerical anathema, the first ball in Canada was given at
Fort St. Louis as early as 1646, and from that time forward social
life at Quebec steadily progressed. The Marquis de Tracy with his
suite of nobles and the regiment of Carignan-Salières brought unwonted
lustre to the remote court; and when a native order of noblesse was
founded a few years later, the Château on the St. Lawrence reflected
the elegance and gaiety of France itself.
[Illustration: NEW ST. JOHN'S GATE]
The account of Madame de Vaudreuil's reception at Versailles in 1709,
or the Duc de Saint-Simon's comment upon that lady's wit and
deportment, affords a high certificate of the _savoir vivre_ of the
old fortress town; and the letters of the Marquis de Montcalm, keen
connoisseur of social arts, show that the drawing-rooms of the Rue du
Parloir were far from uncongenial. Moreover, the fascinating Angélique
des Meloises was something more in the history of New France than the
prototype of the heroine in _Le Chien d'Or_.
Towards the close of the French period Quebec had a population of
about seven thousand, of whom more than half lived in the Lower Town.
Here, on the narrow strand beneath the cliff, the tenements stood in
irregular groups, parted by winding streets. Up the hill, too, these
tortuous pathways ran, changing, now and then, to breakneck stairs
where the declivity was specially steep. The graded slope of Mountain
Street zigzagged from the harbour up to the Castle, while on the St.
Charles side the ascent was commonly made by way of Palace Hill. The
Upper Town was chiefly occupied by public buildings, which comprised
the Château, the Cathedral, churches, schools, and convents. Here also
the streets followed no definite plan, but ambled hither and thither
along the uneven summit. Out through the city gates ran the roads of
St. Louis and St. John, highways to the straggling suburbs, which yet
hung close to the protecting ramparts.
[Illustration: PETIT CHAMPLAIN STREET TO-DAY]
The houses were built of wood or of grey stone, usually to the height
of one story, being also surmounted by a tall, steep roof, through
which the tiny dormer windows peeped in picturesque disorder. Inside,
a slight partition divided the dwelling into two chambers. In the end
of the living-room stood a large open fireplace, the household
cooking-pots swinging from an iron crane. A sturdy table occupied the
centre of the floor, and benches or blocks of wood were ranged as
chairs around the walls. The inevitable cradle, consecrated to the
service of two, three, or four generations, pounded monotonously to
and fro upon the uneven floor, and by the low-set window the thrifty
housewife wove her flaxen homespun in a venerable loom. Saints, in
pictures of fervid tints, looked down serenely from low, unplastered
walls, while from the rafters of the ceiling were hung the weapons of
the family arsenal--flint-lock muskets and hilted hunting-knives, and
sometimes too an ancestral sword or silver-handled pistol.
[Illustration: OLD PRESCOTT GATE]
In the matter of dress, social distinctions were punctiliously
regarded. The _gentilhomme_ was as careful as his wife to follow the
latest vogue at Versailles. His hair was curled, powdered, and tied in
a _queue_, his headgear was the ceremonious three-cornered hat. A
stately, coloured frockcoat, an embroidered waistcoat, knee-breeches,
silk stockings, and high-heeled buckled shoes completed the toilette
of the Canadian seigneur.
"The dress of the _Habitants_," says an observer of a
much later date than Saint-Simon or Montcalm,[26] "is
simple and homely; it consists of a long-skirted cloth or
frock, of a dark grey colour, with a hood attached to it,
which in winter time or wet weather he puts over his
head. His coat is tied round the waist by a worsted sash
of various colours, ornamented with beads. His waistcoat
and trousers are of the same cloth. A pair of moccasins,
or swamp boots, complete the lower part of his dress. His
hair is tied in a thick long _queue_ behind, with an
eelskin; and on each side of his face a few straight
locks hang down like what are vulgarly called 'rat's
tails.' Upon his head is a _bonnet rouge_, or in other
words, a red night-cap. The _tout ensemble_ of his figure
is completed by a short pipe, which he has in his mouth
from morning till night. A Dutchman is not a greater
smoker than a French Canadian.
"The visage of the _Habitant_ is long and thin, his
complexion sunburnt and swarthy, and not unfrequently of
a darker hue than that of the Indian. His eyes, though
rather small, are dark and lively; his nose prominent,
and inclined to the aquiline or Roman form; his cheeks
lank and meagre; his lips small and thin; his chin sharp
and projecting."
[Footnote 26: Lambert, _Travels_, vol i. p. 158.]
In winter, rich and poor alike were wrapped in homespun blanket
_paletots_, whose vivid colours made a charming picture, as the
wayfarers trudged over the deep white snow-fields on their buoyant
snow-shoes, or coasted through the clear and bracing air on swift
toboggans. In the evening they flocked to a chosen _rendezvous_, where
a home-bred violinist tuned them through gay quadrilles; and anon the
lonely violin would be drowned in the lusty voices of the dancers, who
suited a folk-song to their steps--
"Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre,
Mironton, mironton, mirontaine;
Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre,
Ne sait quand reviendra.
Il reviendra z-à Pâques
Ou à la Trinité.
La Trinité se passe,
Malbrouck ne revient pas."
Moreover, winter, the idle half of the year, was the season of social
visits; and in these courtesies the _habitants_ were assiduous.
Between Christmas and Ash Wednesday they strove, it would seem, to
fill themselves with gaiety against the coming grey season of Lent. An
unbidden throng of visitors would drive to a selected house, and sheer
bankruptcy would indeed have been the housewife's portion if this
welcome invasion had been wholly unexpected; but to meet such an
emergency cooked meats and pies stood ready upon her pantry shelves,
while _croquignoles_ and sweet pasties needed only a few moments in
the oven before a meal was ready. Thus during the days of snow they
went gaily from homestead to homestead, all being victimised in turn
by these "surprise parties." For _la haute noblesse_ also, the winter
season was the gayest of the year. Their quaint carrioles sped
jingling over the snow from one manor-house to another; here a
dinner-party, there a dance, and everywhere a frugal happiness.
[Illustration: A CARRIOLE]
[Illustration: VILLAGE OF BEAUPORT]
In _Les Anciens Canadiens_ De Gaspé portrays the life of this
seigneurial class to which he himself belonged. The manor-house was
usually a long, low, stone-built structure, surmounted by overhanging
gables and a lofty roof. A wing was sometimes added at right angles,
and always a group of strongly-built outhouses, stables, and sheds
clustered near by; among them standing a stone mill which had perhaps
served as a tower of refuge in the troublous times of the Iroquois
raids, but which the _censitaires_ now used merely to grind their
grain. If the Seigneur was possessed of power to execute high, middle,
and low justice, a gallows and a pillory might be found within the
precincts; but towards the close of the _ancien régime_ these crude
implements of punishment had happily fallen into disuse. The parish
church was never far away, the Seigneur being at all times the patron
of the _presbytère_, as well as the potent bulwark of the feudal
village springing up within sight of his manor-house.
These country mansions were much the same as those of Quebec, and
there was little difference in the manner of living within and without
the city walls. At eight o'clock the _gentilhomme_ and his family
breakfasted on rolls, white wine, and coffee; while dinner was served
at noon, and supper at seven in the evening. The dining-room of a
fashionable household was tastefully arranged. One end of the room was
completely occupied by the massive side-board, filled with ancestral
silver and china. Upon a shelf apart stood cut-glass decanters for the
table service, and as a _coup d'appétit_ cordials were handed round in
the drawing-room. On coming into the dining-room the guest might, if
he chose, rinse his hands in a blue and white porcelain water-basin,
which stood upon a pedestal in one corner of the room. Arrived at the
table, he found his _couvert_ to consist of a napkin, plate, silver
goblet, fork and spoon, being expected to supply his own knife. For
these occasions men usually carried knives in their pockets, the
ladies wearing them in a leathern, silken, or birch-bark sheath. This
peculiar custom caused some embarrassment to those English officers
who were billeted in French houses after the capture of the city.[27]
[Footnote 27: Captain Knox's _Journal of the Siege_.]
The maple sugar season brought to the _habitants_ their first
relaxation from the severities of Lent. Huge caldrons of sap hung on
poles over the roaring fires, and the children gathered round to taste
the syrup, and salute with songs of welcome the coming of jocund
spring. May-day soon followed, "the maddest merriest day" in all the
calendar. In the early morning the _habitant_ repaired to the
seigneury to assist in erecting the May-pole. Almost every one he
knew--man, woman, or child--was there with similar intent. Presently
the tall fir-tree, stripped of its bark, was firmly planted in the
farmyard, and a deputation waited upon the Seigneur to beg his
acceptance of this homage. A fusillade of blank musket shots was now
kept up until the May-pole was thoroughly blackened. This done, the
doors of the manor-house were thrown wide open in welcome; and the
rest of the day was one long banquet. The Seigneur's tables groaned
beneath burdens of roasted veal, mutton, and pork, huge bowls of stew,
pies, and cakes, to which was added white whiskey and tobacco. Songs,
stories, and homely wit sped the day until the banqueters were weak in
flesh and spirit. Baptisms, betrothals, and weddings also were
occasions of feasting; and the long-suffering Seigneur hardly escaped
standing godfather to every child born within seven leagues of the
manor.
Even the holy sisters came under the spell of the joyous life in which
they moved; and one of the Ursuline nuns who came to Quebec with
Madame de la Peltrie, thus writes in 1640:--
"Although confined in a small hole, with insufficient
air, yet we continue in good health. If in
France one eat only bacon and salt fish, as we do
here, one might be ill without a word said; but we
are well, and sing better than in France. The air is
excellent, and this is a terrestrial paradise, where the
difficulties and troubles of life come so lovingly, that
the more one is piqued, the more one's heart is filled
with amiability."
Behind all this gaiety, however, brooded the Church; for even in her
lightest moments Quebec never strained far on her sacred leash. From
its foundation as a mission trading-post to its consecration as an
episcopal see, the rock city remained a fortress of the faith. Its
early governors, Champlain, D'Ailleboust, and Montmagny, were monks
military, dividing their services equally between faith and
fatherland. First the Récollets, then the Jesuits, came into spiritual
possession; and later on, episcopal rule succeeded to the influence of
Loyola's disciples. The relative estimation in which these various
orders of the Church were held being illustrated by a Canadian
proverb: "Pour faire un Récollet, il faut une hachette, pour un Prêtre
un ciseau, mais pour un Jesuit, il faut un pinceau."
[Illustration: THE BASILICA]
Thus, and in spite of resistance from D'Argenson, D'Avaugour, and
Frontenac, Quebec had been held fast under a firm ecclesiastical
control. Alternating penance with persuasion, the priests imposed
their will upon the people. Absence from church and confession brought
its sufficient penalty; and the calendar was filled with special days
for prayer and purification. Priests, monks, and nuns crowded the
city, in numbers disproportionate to the lay population. The place was
heavy with the incense of a constant worship--the very atmosphere
redolent of piety. From the unrestrained hands of the early governors,
the administration of justice passed to the _Conseil Supérieur_, a
body comprising the governor, the bishop, the intendant, and a varying
number of councillors. Their code took special account of offences
against religion, sins for which the bishop was careful to exact
proper expiation. The pillory, the stocks, and a certain wooden horse
with a sharp spine were the ready instruments of correction.
Proclamations were made either from the pulpit or read at the
church-door after Mass. Royal edicts and ordinances of the _Conseil
Supérieur_ prescribed the duties of citizens, and stated without
vagueness the penalties which would overtake breakers of the law. Yet
in spite of this apparent harshness, the laws were administered in so
patriarchal a spirit as to justify the observation: "It requires great
interest for a man to be hung in Canada."
The peasants, moreover, were far from rebelling against the
impositions of their seigneurs, which they took as part of the order
of nature; and General Murray, writing after the Conquest, thus bears
testimony to the feeling of good-fellowship prevailing between the two
classes: "The tenants, who pay only an annual quit-rent of about a
dollar a year for about a hundred acres, are at their ease and
comfortable. They have been accustomed to respect and obey their
noblesse; their tenures being military in the feudal manner, they have
shared with them the dangers of the field, and natural affection has
been increased in proportion to the calamities which have been common
to both, from the conquest of the country. As they have been taught to
respect their superiors, and are not yet intoxicated with the abuse
of liberty, they are shocked at the insults which their noblesse and
the King's officers have received from the English traders and lawyers
since the civil government took place."
[Illustration: JESUITS' BARRACKS]
Each householder was responsible for the street before his property,
being compelled to keep it clean of snow and refuse. Innkeepers
required a license, and had to conform to rigid laws. Cattle, pigs,
and sheep were impounded if found straying in the streets, and the
Intendant strictly regulated the possession of live-stock.
The first horse seen in New France had been brought out by the
Governor Montmagny about 1636; but before the end of the century many
more were shipped from Havre, and it was not long before the law began
to regulate this new feature of social life. An ordinance forbade any
_habitant_ to possess more than two mares and one colt. In riding away
from service on Sunday the horseman was forbidden to break into a
canter until he had travelled ten arpents from the church. Private
baptism of children was refused except in cases of absolute necessity.
The order in which the personages of Quebec should receive the
sacrament was precisely established. Roads, bridges, and churches were
built by forced labour. The construction of houses, both as to
material and design, was regulated by law. Builders were required to
conform to a line and face their houses on the highway. Certain
personages, however, claimed exemption from this rule, and to these
was accorded the right--_d'avoir pignon sur rue_--to have the gable on
the street, the purpose being to secure a certain degree of privacy by
means of an entrance away from the public highway.
[Illustration: MODERN CALÈCHES]
As to the law of inheritance, the testator was bound to divide his
estate fairly among all his children, the title and the largest share
going to the eldest son. This legislation, which affected seigneur and
_censitaire_ alike, subdivided the country into ribbon-like farms,
with narrow frontages on the river and running back long distances
inland. This attenuated appearance of the rural holdings strikes the
stranger forcibly as he travels through the province of Quebec even at
this day, and denotes a condition which prevailed in England also in
the most primitive days of agriculture. The system had some
justification, however, in the necessity which each peasant felt of
having access to the St. Lawrence, the most convenient, and, for
nearly a hundred years, the only highway to the city of Quebec.
Moreover, it enabled the settlers to build their houses close
together, thus protecting themselves against the ever-present danger
of Indian raids. Even now the river St. Lawrence looks like a
gigantic road bordered by homely white-washed cottages.
Examples of the quaint laws and customs of the _ancien régime_ might
be multiplied indefinitely; but perhaps enough has already been said
to show the paternalism of the legal system and the medievalism of the
social life which prevailed. Before the Conquest the French Canadian
had nothing whatever to do with the making of his own laws; and so far
from struggling to obtain this right, he preferred to be without it.
The Curé knew all about the laws, and the _habitant_ was willing to
leave the matter to him!
On the whole, if we except the wicked exactions of the Intendant Bigot
and his confederates, Quebec was happily governed. From generation to
generation the light-hearted _habitant_ cheerfully paid his _dîme_ to
the Church, his _cens et rente_ to the Seigneur, his military service
to the Governor. If the call came for a raid upon New England, he took
down his musket and his powder-horn, and set out blithely upon his
snow-shoes for the rendezvous of war; if to rally to the defence of
Quebec, he was equally ready to bury his chattels and take his place
upon the city ramparts, or to withstand a landing on the Beauport
shore.
Such were the people who drew from the first British Governor a
generous testimony: "I glory," says General Murray, "in having been
accused of warmth and firmness in protecting the King's Canadian
subjects, and of doing the utmost in my power to gain to my royal
master the affections of that brave, hardy people, whose emigration,
if it should ever happen, would be an irreparable loss to this
empire."
[Illustration: QUEBEC (FROM LÉVI)]
So sped life beside the broad St. Lawrence, within and around Quebec.
So flew the days of the _ancien régime_; some sunshine, some shadow,
and always an honest fearless people who served God, honoured the
King, and stood ready to die for New France and the golden lilies.