_THE COUNCIL._
A LARGE oblong space was marked out on a common between St. Paul
street and the river, and enclosed by a fence of branches. In this
enclosure the Council upon which such momentous issues depended was
held. Some of the Indians who attended had gathered from a distance of
fully two thousand miles. The assembly presented a strange and grotesque
appearance. There were Hurons and Ottawas from Michillimackinac;
Pottawatomies from Lake Michigan; Ojibways from Lake Superior; Crees
from the remote north; Mascoutins, Sacs, Foxes, Winnebagoes and
Menominies from Wisconsin; Miamis from St. Joseph; Illinois from River
Illinois; Abenakis from Acadia, and many allied tribes of less account.
These sang, whooped and harangued in their several accents. Their
features were different; so were their manners, their weapons, their
decorations, their dances. Each savage was painted in diverse hues and
patterns, and each appeared in his dress of ceremony—leather shirt
fringed with scalp-locks, colored blanket, robe of bison-hide or
beaver-skin, bristling crest of hair or long lank tresses, eagle
feathers or skins of beasts. A young Algonquin warrior, in the dress of
a Canadian, was crowned with drooping scarlet feathers and a tall ridge
of hair like a cock’s crest. A chief of the Foxes, whose face was
painted red, wore an elaborate French wig, the abundant curls of which
were in a state of complete entanglement. He persisted in bowing right
and left with great affability, lifting his wig like a hat to show that
he was perfect in French politeness.
The Indians, feathered, greased and painted, were seated in close ranks
on the grass, braves, chiefs and sachems gravely smoking their pipes in
silence. Troops, making the best possible show, were drawn up in lines
along the sides. At one side, under a canopy of boughs and leaves, were
seats for the spectators; these were occupied by ladies, officials, and
the principal citizens of Ville Marie. In front was placed a chair for
the Governor-General.
The French yielded themselves up readily to the spirit of the occasion.
The whole community had recently passed through unheard-of sufferings,
yet on the appearance of the faintest gleam of sunshine the colonists
were ready to smile, to deck themselves out in their bravest, to seize
eagerly all the brightness of the hour. Eyes and jewels flashed,
brocades rustled, feathers waved, and here and there was a shimmer of
filmy lace. In carf and coif, ladies whose noble manners, stately
bearing and sparkling wit would have fitly graced the Court of
Versailles, whose elegant and ingenious coquetries were the product of
the most finished civilization, promenaded, escorted by officers
bedecked with gold and silver lace and all the martial foppery rendered
necessary by the etiquette of the day.
“Vive M. le Comte de Frontenac! It is M. le Gouverneur who has saved us
from the clutches of those vultures, the Iroquois! Yes, and opened the
fur trade, that we may not starve! Vive le Gouverneur!” shouted the
crowd.
Frontenac’s gallantry and open-handed liberality, his success in dealing
with the Indians, the prosperity which his policy had brought to Canada,
rendered him the idol of the populace, who had not been blinded by
jealousy or rent by internal divisions, as were the officials, civil,
military and ecclesiastical, all of whom apparently wanted to obtain aid
from the Government. In the upper classes every man had a grievance
against somebody or something, of which he was continually writing
complaints to France. These bickerings and animosities added, at least,
a spice of variety to the life of the colony.
A detachment of guards in the King’s livery preceded the Governor, who
was surrounded by a brilliant retinue of young nobles, gorgeous in lace
and ribbons. Louis de Buade, Comte de Frontenac, Chevalier de l’Ordre de
St. Louis and Governor-General of New France, had already attained his
seventieth year, though the alert, decided movements of the bold and
impetuous soldier showed no diminution of vitality. He represented the
best type of French courtier and gentleman soldier of the reign of _le
Grand Monarque_. A fine martial figure, erect and vigorous, the natural
distinction of his mien and pose, the assured ease of look and manner,
marked him as one familiar with the usages of courts. His keen black
eyes shone beneath a broad brow upon which the years, with their many
troubles, had traced scarcely a wrinkle. The Roman nose, thin lips, and
firm, prominent chin, imparted a severe and imperious expression to his
face. He wore a wig, lightly powdered, with long ringlets falling on
either side of his face, crowned by a three-cornered hat bordered with
gold. His fine red surtout and short embroidered vest were of the latest
fashion; his loosely knotted cravat was of point lace, while his white
and delicate hands were partly concealed by falling ruffles of the same.
He wore shoulder and sword knots. A broad belt, inlaid with gold, fell
from his right shoulder, encircling the waist, and held a sword whose
hilt, resting upon the left hip, glittered with jewels. His shapely
limbs showed to advantage in long black silk stockings and shoes with
jewelled buckles. The Governor had a decided taste for splendor and
profusion, delighting in brilliancy of clothing and luxury of service.
All his surroundings presented as much pomp and magnificence as the
slender resources of the colony would permit. This was an hour of
triumph precious to the daring and potent spirit of the French noble,
who fully perceived the force of his own position. Some time before he
had been recalled in disgrace owing to the machinations of his enemies,
and during his absence the colony’s fortunes had fallen to their very
lowest ebb; he had now returned to taste the sweetness of success, and
even his foes were forced to acknowledge the beneficial results which
his policy had already achieved.
Near the Governor stood the interpreters, whose services were constantly
required, while scattered about were a number of Canadian officers
nearly every man of whom had been the hero of some marvellous exploit.
Here was the Chevalier de Callière, Governor of Ville Marie, dark and
haughty, almost as imperious as Frontenac himself, a man respected by
the savages and adored by his own men. His rival, de Vaudreuil, a
fluent, voluble Gascon, was in attendance upon the beautiful Louise de
Joybert of Quebec, who was soon to become his bride, and had little
attention to give to the animated conversation of d’Ailleboust de
Mousseaux, Civil and Criminal Magistrate of Ville Marie, and his brother
d’Ailleboust de Mantet, who had won laurels at the taking of
Schenectady. All three courteously saluted Boisberthelot de Becancourt
and Augustin le Gardeur de Coutremanche as they passed. Leaning on his
sword stood the Sieur d’Hertel, who at the head of fifty Canadians and
savages had taken Salmon Falls during the winter of 1690. Near by,
Boucher de Boucherville, who with forty-six Frenchmen had held the fort
of Three Rivers against five hundred Iroquois, was holding animated
discussion with the Sieur de Montigny, whose body bore traces of
conflict in innumerable wounds, and who in command of only twelve
Canadians had taken forcible possession of Portugal Cove, and with M. de
Pontneuf, son of the Baron de Becancourt, the preceding winter had
gallantly silenced the eight cannon defending Casco. On one side the
Sieurs de Beaujeu, de St. Ours, Baby de Rainville, de Lanandière,
Deschambault, Chartier de Lobinière, d’Estimanville, de la Brossee,
Repentigny de Montesson, Captains Subercase, d’Orvilliers, Sieur de
Valrennes, and his lieutenant, M. Dupuy, conversed with something
emphatically Gallic in their vivacious gestures and absorbed faces.
The clergy were also well represented. Talking to the Marquise de
Monesthrol appeared Dollier de Casson, Superior of the Seminary,
gigantic in stature, hearty of voice, with bold, brown, earnest face,
frank and simple in expression. He had been a cavalry officer, and had
fought bravely under Turenne; the soldier and the gentleman still lived
under the priest’s hassock. Father Joseph Denys, Superior of the
Recollets, benign and jovial, basking openly in the Governor’s favor,
eyed jealously askance by the Jesuits, stood close behind Frontenac.
Father Denys had to a great extent shared the Governor-General’s
disgrace; the period of Frontenac’s banishment had proved evil days for
the Recollets, and their Superior would have been more than human had he
not exulted in their present exaltation.
In a group apart stood Jacques Le Ber, Le Moyne de Longueuil, La
Chesnaye, de Niverville and Aubert de Gaspé. Some of these men had been
the Governor’s most resolute antagonists during his first term of
office, and were not at all sure of the ground upon which they were
treading or the turn which affairs were likely to take.
Now ensued a striking scene, an essential preliminary to the treaty
which the Governor-General hoped to conclude with the Indians. Few white
men have ever surpassed the Count in skill in dealing with the
aborigines. Those who had succeeded to his position after his recall to
France had utterly failed in this direction. The only hope of
maintaining this little settlement planted in the wilderness was in
inducing the other Indian tribes to unite in a determined resistance to
the encroachments of the Iroquois. He now listened to their orators with
gravest attention, as though weighing every word that was uttered. When,
in his turn, he addressed them with an air of mingled kindness, firmness
and condescension that inspired them with respect, their expressions of
approval came at every pause in his address. Then with the same
ceremonious grace with which he might have bowed before Louis the
Magnificent, the Governor grasped the hatchet, brandished it skilfully
in the air, and in a clear, strong voice, intoned the war-song. To a
punctilious courtier the position might have seemed utterly absurd, but
Frontenac was a man of the world in the widest sense, and as much at
home in a wigwam as in the halls of princes; as a diplomat he retained a
clear, logical perception of all the facts of the situation. Many, under
such circumstances, would have lost respect by an undignified
performance, but the Count’s native tact enabled him to harmonize the
most incongruous elements; the faculty of imitativeness, the utter
absence of self-consciousness, the determination faithfully to execute a
disagreeable duty, served his purpose. Instead of exciting ridicule his
achievements delighted the Indians, aroused his friends to enthusiasm,
and extorted a reluctant admiration even from the most determined of his
opponents.
“This poor M. le Gouverneur! he possesses my sincere sympathy. Figure to
yourself how these cries and howls, worse indeed than those made by the
wild beasts of the forest, must prove trying to the throat,” remarked
the Marquise, with a sincere appreciation of the loyalty involved in
undergoing so very objectionable an ordeal.
The principal officers present followed the example of their chief;
indeed, not a little ambition was shown as to who should go through the
ceremony with the most perfect accuracy, and some of the younger members
of the party, who had become familiar with forest life, displayed much
agility and derived apparent enjoyment from the ceremony.
At first the savages stood stolid, silent, making no response to the
invitation extended to them. It was an interval of anxious suspense.
Suddenly the Christian Iroquois of the two neighboring missions rose and
joined the Frenchmen; then, as though impelled by some irresistible
impulse, the Hurons and Algonquins of Lake Nipissing did the same. One
wild tribe after another followed this example, until the whole troop
joined in the stamping and screeching like an army of madmen, and the
Governor with grave dignity led the dance, stamping and whooping like
the rest. The heathen allies at last were thoroughly aroused. With the
wildest enthusiasm they snatched the proffered hatchet and swore war to
the death against the common enemy.
Then came a solemn war-feast. Barrels of wine with abundant supplies of
tobacco were served out to the guests. Two oxen and several large dogs
had been chopped to pieces for the occasion and boiled with a quantity
of prunes. Kettles were carried in, and their steaming contents ladled
into the wooden bowls with which each provident guest had supplied
himself. Seated in a ring on the grass, the Indians began eagerly to
devour the food placed before them. It was a point of conscience not to
flinch, and they gorged themselves until they fairly choked with
repletion. It was not a pleasant sight, yet the colonists regarded it
with some complacency, seeing that it meant prosperity and security
against danger.