DIANE OF VILLE MARIE
A ROMANCE OF FRENCH CANADA
BY
BLANCHE LUCILE MACDONNELL.
TORONTO
WILLIAM BRIGGS,
29-33 RICHMOND ST WEST.
MONTREAL: C. W. COATES, HALIFAX: S. F. HUESTIS.
1898
Entered according to Act of the Parliament of Canada, in the
year one thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight, by WILLIAM
BRIGGS, at the Department of Agriculture.
I N L O V I N G M E M O R Y O F
=A Mother=
WHO WAS
INSPIRATION, FRIEND AND COMFORTER.
PREFACE.
THIS story is an attempt to make known the men and women who once
lived and loved and suffered amid these very scenes wherein we are now
enacting our own life stories.
In dealing with historical events and characters it seems only fair to
the reader to avow what liberties have been taken with facts, and to
state exactly to what extent this tale is founded upon history.
The Le Ber family were prominent figures among their contemporaries.
Jacques Le Ber, brother-in-law to the redoubtable Charles Le Moyne, was
one of the richest merchants of New France. A hardy and intrepid
soldier, he was ennobled by Louis XIV. in 1696. In speaking of him M.
Dollier de Casson says: “M. Jacques Le Ber has in this way rendered
valuable services to the colony, exposing himself very often in canoe,
on the ice, or in the woods, carrying despatches.”
His only daughter, Jeanne Le Ber, was considered a great heiress. At
seventeen she determined to offer herself as an expiatory offering for
the sins of her country. During the fifteen years following she remained
in seclusion in her father’s house, and was never seen but once, and
that exactly as described in this story. Later, this fair enthusiast
decided to give the Sisters of the Congregation sufficient money to
build their church, if they would provide her a cell behind the altar in
which she could spend the remainder of her days. This cell, divided into
three storeys, and extending the whole length of the building, was from
ten to twelve feet deep.
The original deed, containing these conditions—drawn up by Bassett, a
notary of Ville Marie, and signed by the principal nuns of the
Congregation, as well as by M. Dollier de Casson, Superior of the
Seminary—may still be seen in the Registrar’s office in Montreal.
The Le Ber family proved substantial benefactors to the Sisters of the
Congregation. Pierre Le Ber the eldest son, left them a legacy of two
thousand francs, and his sister remembered them handsomely.
Pierre Le Ber joined Charon de la Barre in founding L’Institut des
Frères Hospitaliers de Ville Marie. He was the only one of Charon’s
associates who remained faithful to the end. He appears to have been the
first Canadian artist, and painted portraits of le Sieur Bourgeois, St.
Paul, Ste. Therèse, and the Virgin Mary, for different churches. He died
in 1707, and his heart was buried in the Church of the Congregation.
Lydia Longloy, a New England girl, was taken prisoner by the Abenaquis
in 1694. She was baptized a Roman Catholic in Ville Marie on April 14th,
1696.
The Chevalier de Crisasi was a veritable personage. Charlevoix says of
this gentleman: “One does not know which to admire most, his skill in
war, his sagacity in council, his fertility of resource, or his presence
of mind in action.” The elder brother, the Marquis de Crisasi, was
appointed Governor of Three Rivers; the Chevalier, neglected by his
friends and forgotten by the Court, died of a broken heart.
Madame de Monesthrol, her niece, and Nanon can lay no claim to be
considered historical, but have been drawn after close and extensive
study of the types portrayed in the histories and memoirs of the time.
It may be objected that the expedition of Diane and Lydia to Mount Royal
is improbable; but it must be remembered the road to the Mountain
furnished the most popular pilgrimage of that period, and the dangers
which beset the enterprise only heightened its merits. At a still
earlier date Madame d’Aillebout and her sister climbed the mountain-side
nine days in succession in order to make a neuvena before the cross
erected by Maisonneuve.
Four Iroquois were actually burned at Montreal in the manner described,
but the event occurred in 1701. Dubocq’s exploit is likewise
historically correct, but it also occurred some years later than I have
taken the liberty of placing it. In these, as in some other instances,
the actual chronology has not been strictly followed, but has been
altered to suit the exigencies of the tale.
BLANCHE LUCILE MACDONNELL.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. THE SEIGNIORY OF SENNEVILLE 9
II. A FORTIFIED RESIDENCE 17
III. AN IROQUOIS ATTACK 25
IV. AN ENGLISH CAPTIVE 32
V. A CANADIAN HOME 43
VI. MADAME’S “APARTEMENT” 54
VII. A FOREST ADVENTURE 64
VIII. VILLE MARIE 81
IX. AN OCCASION OF REJOICING 92
X. THE COUNCIL 101
XI. THE ANNUAL FAIR 110
XII. A CANADIAN BUSHRANGER 118
XIII. PIERRE’S TEMPTATION 127
XIV. AN AWAKENING 137
XV. NANON’S LOVERS 142
XVI. A VICE-REGAL BANQUET 157
XVII. THE MATSHI SKOUÉOU 164
XVIII. SAINTLY PROTECTION 174
XIX. A WOMAN’S LOYALTY 179
XX. PREPARING FOR THE EXPEDITION 192
XXI. BAPTISTE FINDS HIS WITS 202
XXII. THE DEPARTURE 207
XXIII. SUSPENSE 211
XXIV. A PILGRIMAGE TO MOUNT ROYAL 217
XXV. TIDINGS AT LAST 227
XXVI. DU CHESNE’S RETURN 237
XXVII. A COMPLETED SACRIFICE 246
DIANE OF VILLE MARIE.
CHAPTER I.
_THE SEIGNIORY OF SENNEVILLE._
A LANGUID summer day was that of the 3rd of August, 1690. A light mist
lay like a veil upon the St. Lawrence, spreading out in grand and
generous swell, the Lake of Two Mountains glimmering in the distance
like a silver shield. The eye lingered on noble heights, sunny slopes
and deep forest glooms. Near the shore grasses leaned over the surface
of the stream, rushes tall and straight waved with the ripples, but from
their tangled and interlacing fibres the water flowed clear. The St.
Lawrence was full of tinkling tremors of sound. The distant hills showed
blue and vague through the fluctuating haze.
At the Seigniory of de Senneville this was a busy time. The Seignior,
Jacques Le Ber, had been superintending the gathering of his harvests. A
far-sighted and thrifty man in business affairs, while the whole colony
existed in a state of extreme penury he had contrived to accumulate
great wealth. To him the New World had proved wonderfully profitable.
The Western fur trade had led to fortune. Indomitable energy and sound
judgment aided him to overcome the difficulties under which the new
country labored, while experience, joined to natural shrewdness, taught
how to steer safely between the varying official interests which in turn
directed the colony.
The ravages of the caterpillars had left little harvest to gather, and
had it not been for the marvellous incursion of squirrels, which fairly
swarmed over the land, many of the people must have starved. Broken,
uneven fields stretched to the borders of the forest. Amidst the stumps
and prostrate trees of the unsightly clearing, the colonists pursued
their labors, protected by a body of regulars whom the merchants had
brought from Ville Marie. At short distances sentinels were posted to
give the alarm at any sign of approaching danger.
These were troublous times for the handful of French settlers scattered
amidst the savage hordes and half-reclaimed forests of the New World.
Amid tangled thickets and deep ravines, in the shade and stillness of
columned woods, behind woody islets, everywhere there lurked danger and
terror. The fierce and cruel Iroquois were on the war-path. These
tireless savages owed their triumphs as much to craft as to their
extraordinary boldness and bravery. They rarely approached the
settlements in winter, when the trees and bushes had no leaves to
conceal their advance, and when their movements would be betrayed by the
track of their snowshoes, but they were always to be expected at the
time of sowing and harvest, when it was possible to do the most
mischief.
Scarcely one of the little party collected at Senneville but had passed
through scenes of grim horror. Though they chattered over their work
with true Gallic light-heartedness and vivacity, most of them could have
related experiences of the unsleeping hatred and cruelty of the Iroquois
and the hardships of forest life.
Only two years before, Louison Guimond’s young brother had been
butchered before her eyes, and with the remains of the mutilated body
the dazed and miserable woman had journeyed alone through the wilderness
to secure Christian burial for her dead. Sans Quartier, an old soldier,
returning from an expedition, had found his home in ashes and his young
wife and child carried away captive. Another soldier, Frap d’Abord, held
his musket awkwardly (though none could do better service) because his
finger had been burned in the bowl of an Indian pipe, one of the many
ingenious forms of torture practised by the Iroquois. Baptiste Bras de
Fer, a hardy Canadian voyageur and coureur de bois, could tell true
tales of peril and adventure in the pathless forest, such as chilled the
blood in the listener’s veins—stories of forced marches through sodden
snowdrifts and matted thickets, over rocks and cliffs and swollen
streams, when men, perishing from cold and famine, boiled moccasins for
food, and scraped away the snow in search of beech and hickory nuts. The
resignation born of long usage, the conviction that these conditions
were beyond remedy, that the only thing to be done was to endure,
enabled these people to assume a demeanor of calmness and patience. But
there was always an hysterical quiver in Louison’s shrill laughter. When
Sans Quartier was silent the lines of pain deepened in his stern,
bronzed face; the very name of an Indian was sufficient to make Frap
d’Abord swear long strings of queer, quaint oaths. Nevertheless their
chatter usually flowed on cheerily, with much merriment and little
complaint.
The scanty harvests had been gathered, and the party, with the exception
of Gregoire and his wife, Goulet the farmer, and the soldiers left to
garrison the fort, prepared for their return to Ville Marie. Though the
distance to be traversed was not great, the journey was both toilsome
and perilous. In order to escape the turmoil of the Lachine Rapids the
canoes had to be shouldered through the forest. The large flat-bottomed
boats, being too heavy for such handling, were to be dragged and pushed
in the shallow water close to the bank by gangs of men, who toiled and
struggled amidst rocks and foam. Just now the danger and inconvenience
of transit were considerably increased by the presence of some of the
ladies of the Le Ber household who had accompanied the party to
Senneville.
Shrewd trader and fearless soldier as was the honest merchant of Ville
Marie, he possessed a knightly spirit and had never yet been able to
refuse a request urged by his ward, Diane de Monesthrol. When that
capricious damsel had determined to accompany the harvesting expedition,
and had persuaded Le Ber’s nephew, Le Moyne de St. Helène, and his young
wife (who as Jeanne de Fresnoy Carion had also been Le Ber’s ward,) to
join it, it was perfectly understood in the household that opposition
was useless, and the merchant, against his better judgment, yielded to
the girl’s pretty coaxing.
“Throw your tongue to the dogs—of what use to argue with our
demoiselle; she has always ten answers to one objection. One fine day
she, and we others tied to her heels, will furnish an excellent meal to
those sorcerers of Iroquois—faith of Nanon Benest!” cried Madame de
Monesthrol’s serving-woman, with the freedom of a faithful and attached
French servant.
* * * * *
Jacques Le Ber stood close to the shore, where the men, shouting and
joking, were loading the boats. His was a round, bourgeois, somewhat
heavy type of face, seamed and tanned by work and weather, decorated by
a slight moustache, and redeemed from commonness by bright, earnest
eyes. He wore a three-cornered hat, and over his ample shoulders was
spread a stiff white collar of wide expanse and studied plainness. He
looked what he was, a well-to-do citizen of good renown and sage
deportment.
At Diane de Monesthrol’s approach he turned hastily. A true and earnest
friendship united the busy trader and this young girl of noble birth. No
young cavalier (and Diane was said to be the fairest demoiselle in New
France) appreciated the fairness of her gracious youth more thoroughly
than the world-worn elderly man whose thoughts were engrossed with so
many pressing material interests. His most soothing consolations for
several years past had come from this eager-eyed, girlish creature who
seemed intuitively to comprehend his feelings.
In the midst of his prosperity the merchant had experienced heavy
bereavements. He had lost his wife, the thoughtful and sympathetic
partner of all his interests. When their only daughter in the early
promise of her youth had resolved to withdraw into absolute seclusion,
and devote herself as a public offering to God for the sins of her
country, spiritual pride had induced him to consent to the sacrifice. He
had been assured by his guides in religion that he and his wife were to
serve as models to all the parents in the colony; they would be honored
as was Abraham for his sacrifice of Isaac.
Still, even with that consolation, the sundering of domestic ties lay
heavily on his heart. In the sober wisdom that came with years of
disappointment, through the dark experiences that usually isolate men’s
thoughts, he had found comfort in the frank, simple, and guileless
spirit of the girl to whom he had afforded protection. In reality the
man had two natures: the one practical, ambitious, worldly, which was
known to all the world; the other, rarely suspected, was ideal and
passionate, and throve apart from all the common requirements of life.
The primeval strength and freshness of a new world, as yet
uncontaminated by the vices of advanced civilization, seemed to have
breathed into this girl an abounding energy which resulted in a rare
union of vigor and native delicacy. The transplanted flower had not lost
the charm distinctive of her class, and had gained in spirit and
character. The warmth of the sunlight, the flush of youth, the fresh
breeze of the springtide had crystallized within her. The glory of this
undiscovered country, full of grand perils and deliverances, storms to
be braved, griefs, joys and labors to be lived through, were in the
highest degree congenial to her dauntless temperament.
As they made ready to start, Le Ber’s eyes rested with satisfied gaze
upon the radiant beauty of his young ward. Her complexion was purely
pale; the delicately-cut features, lit up by that undisturbed equanimity
which is the inheritance of vigorous minds, were piquant rather than
regular. The cheeks were beautified by playful dimples, the short upper
lip was fresh as a rose, while the softly-rounded and mutinous chin
indicated reserve forces of strength as yet scarcely suspected. Madame
de Monesthrol sometimes lamented that according to the canons of taste
her niece’s eyes ought to have been brown, yet in defiance of all rule
they were intensely blue, and shaded by black heavy curling lashes. Her
hair, lightly powdered, was partly crimped and partly curled. Her gown
of dark cloth opened at the throat, which was veiled by a lace kerchief;
a long waisted corsage fitted tightly over the bust, and flounces of
lace finished off the under-skirt and fell from the sleeves. The regard
which Diane turned on the world was the frank, friendly and confiding
look of a child; mischievous often it might be, scornful sometimes at
the sight of anything mean or paltry, yet always the simple gaze of a
soul as yet undisturbed by passion or distrust.
“And it has been pleasant to have me with you?” the girl asked, taking
her guardian’s arm, and looking up smilingly into his face.
The wrinkles under Le Ber’s deep-set eyes and the tense lines about his
mouth relaxed in an indulgent smile.
“That goes without saying, my little one; your presence carries
sunshine. We must remember, however, the nerves of Madame la Marquise,
who will doubtless await your return with anxiety. If we would reach
Ville Marie by daylight it is time to start; and not to succeed in doing
so would expose us to many dangers. Nanon has at last completed her
preparations. St. Helène is anxious to be gone; experience has taught
him the perils of delay. Nor shall I feel at rest until I see you within
the walls of the town.”