Le chien d'or. English
Produced by Donald Lainson
THE GOLDEN DOG. (LE CHIEN D'OR.)
By William Kirby
AUTHOR'S PREFATORY NOTE.
TO THE PUBLIC:
In the year 1877 the first edition of "The Golden Dog" (Le Chien d'Or)was brought out in the United States, entirely without my knowledge orsanction. Owing to the inadequacy of the then existing copyright laws,I have been powerless to prevent its continued publication, which Iunderstand to have been a successful and profitable undertaking forall concerned, except the author, the book having gone through manyeditions.
It was, consequently, a source of gratification to me when I wasapproached by Messrs. L. C. Page & Company, of Boston, with a request torevise "The Golden Dog," and re-publish it through them. The result isthe present edition, which I have corrected and revised in the light ofthe latest developments in the history of Quebec, and which is the onlyedition offered to my readers with the sanction and approval of itsauthor.
WILLIAM KIRBY.
Niagara, Canada, May, 1897.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. MEN OF THE OLD REGIME
II. THE WALLS OF QUEBEC
III. A CHATELAINE OF NEW FRANCE
IV. CONFIDENCES
V. THE ITINERANT NOTARY
VI. BEAUMANOIR
VII. THE INTENDANT BIGOT
VIII. CAROLINE DE ST. CASTIN
IX. PIERRE PHILIBERT
X. AMELIE DE REPENTIGNY
XI. THE SOLDIER'S WELCOME
XII. THE CASTLE OF ST. LOUIS
XIII. THE CHIEN D'OR
XIV. THE COUNCIL OF WAR
XV. THE CHARMING JOSEPHINE
XVI. ANGELIQUE DES MELOISES
XVII. SPLENDIDE MENDAX
XVIII. THE MEROVINGIAN PRINCESS
XIX. PUT MONEY IN THY PURSE
XX. BELMONT
XXI. SIC ITUR AD ASTRA
XXII. SO GLOZED THE TEMPTER
XXIII. SEALS OF LOVE, BUT SEALED IN VAIN
XXIV. THE HURRIED QUESTION OF DESPAIR
XXV. BETWIXT THE LAST VIOLET AND THE EARLIEST ROSE
XXVI. THE CANADIAN BOAT SONG
XXVII. CHEERFUL YESTERDAYS AND CONFIDENT TO-MORROWS
XXVIII. A DAY AT THE MANOR HOUSE
XXIX. FELICES TER ET AMPLIUS
XXX. "NO SPEECH OF SILK WILL SERVE YOUR TURN"
XXXI. THE BALL AT THE INTENDANT'S PALACE
XXXII. "ON WITH THE DANCE"
XXXIII. LA CORRIVEAU
XXXIV. WEIRD SISTERS
XXXV. "FLASKETS OF DRUGS, FULL TO THEIR WICKED LIPS"
XXXVI. THE BROAD, BLACK GATEWAY OF A LIE
XXXVII. ARRIVAL OF PIERRE PHILIBERT
XXXVIII. A WILD NIGHT INDOORS AND OUT
XXXIX. MERE MALHEUR
XL. QUOTH THE RAVEN, "NEVERMORE!"
XLI. A DEED WITHOUT A NAME
XLII. "LET'S TALK OF GRAVES AND WORMS AND EPITAPHS"
XLIII. SILK GLOVES OVER BLOODY HANDS
XLIV. THE INTENDANT'S DILEMMA
XLV. "I WILL FEED FAT THE ANCIENT GRUDGE I BEAR HIM"
XLVI. THE BOURGEOIS PHILIBERT
XLVII. A DRAWN GAME
XLVIII. "IN GOLD CLASPS LOCKS IN THE GOLDEN STORY"
XLIX. THE MARKET-PLACE ON ST. MARTIN'S DAY
L. "BLESSED THEY WHO DIE DOING THY WILL"
LI. EVIL NEWS RIDES POST
LII. THE LAMP OF REPENTIGNY
LIII. "LOVELY IN DEATH THE BEAUTEOUS RUIN LAY"
LIV. "THE MILLS OF GOD GRIND SLOWLY"
THE GOLDEN DOG.
(LE CHIEN D'OR.)
CHAPTER I. MEN OF THE OLD REGIME.
"'See Naples, and then die!' That was a proud saying, Count, which weused to hear as we cruised under lateen sails about the glorious baythat reflects from its waters the fires of Vesuvius. We believed theboast then, Count. But I say now, 'See Quebec, and live forever!'Eternity would be too short to weary me of this lovely scene--thisbright Canadian morning is worthy of Eden, and the glorious landscapeworthy of such a sun-rising."
Thus exclaimed a tall, fair Swedish gentleman, his blue eyes sparkling,and every feature glowing with enthusiasm, Herr Peter Kalm, to HisExcellency Count de la Galissoniere, Governor of New France, as theystood together on a bastion of the ramparts of Quebec, in the year ofgrace 1748.
A group of French and Canadian officers, in the military uniformsof Louis XV., stood leaning on their swords, as they conversed gailytogether on the broad gravelled walk at the foot of the rampart. Theyformed the suite in attendance upon the Governor, who was out by sunrisethis morning to inspect the work done during the night by the citizensof Quebec and the habitans of the surrounding country, who had beenhastily summoned to labor upon the defences of the city.
A few ecclesiastics, in black cassocks, dignitaries of the Church,mingled cheerfully in the conversation of the officers. They hadaccompanied the Governor, both to show their respect, and to encourage,by their presence and exhortations, the zeal of the colonists in thework of fortifying the capital.
War was then raging between old England and old France, and between NewEngland and New France. The vast region of North America, stretching farinto the interior and southwest from Canada to Louisiana, had forthree years past been the scene of fierce hostilities between the rivalnations, while the savage Indian tribes, ranged on the one side and onthe other, steeped their moccasins in the blood of French and Englishcolonists, who, in their turn, became as fierce, and carried on the waras relentlessly, as the savages themselves.
Louisbourg, the bulwark of New France, projecting its mailed arm boldlyinto the Atlantic, had been cut off by the English, who now overranAcadia, and began to threaten Quebec with invasion by sea and land. Busyrumors of approaching danger were rife in the colony, and the gallantGovernor issued orders, which were enthusiastically obeyed, for thepeople to proceed to the walls and place the city in a state of defence,to bid defiance to the enemy.
Rolland Michel Barrin, Count de la Galissoniere, was remarkable no lessfor his philosophical attainments, that ranked him high among the savansof the French Academy, than for his political abilities and foresightas a statesman. He felt strongly the vital interests involved in thepresent war, and saw clearly what was the sole policy necessary forFrance to adopt in order to preserve her magnificent dominion in NorthAmerica. His counsels were neither liked nor followed by the Court ofVersailles, then sinking fast into the slough of corruption that markedthe closing years of the reign of Louis XV.
Among the people who admired deeds more than words the Count washonored as a brave and skilful admiral, who had borne the flag ofFrance triumphantly over the seas, and in the face of her most powerfulenemies--the English and Dutch. His memorable repulse of Admiral Byng,eight years after the events here recorded,--which led to the death ofthat brave and unfortunate officer, who was shot by sentence of courtmartial to atone for that repulse,--was a glory to France, but to theCount brought after it a manly sorrow for the fate of his opponent,whose death he regarded as a cruel and unjust act, unworthy of theEnglish nation, usually as generous and merciful as it is brave andconsiderate.
The Governor was already well-advanced in years. He had entered upon thewinter of life, that sprinkles the head with snow that never melts, buthe was still hale, ruddy, and active. Nature had, indeed, moulded himin an unpropitious hour for personal comeliness, but in compensation hadseated a great heart and a graceful mind in a body low of stature,and marked by a slight deformity. His piercing eyes, luminous withintelligence and full of sympathy for everything noble and elevated,overpowered with their fascination the blemishes that a too curiousscrutiny might discover upon his figure; while his mobile, handsome lipspoured out the natural eloquence of clear thoughts and noble sentiments
.The Count grew great while speaking: his listeners were carried away bythe magic of his voice and the clearness of his intellect.
He was very happy this morning by the side of his old friend, PeterKalm, who was paying him a most welcome visit in New France. They hadbeen fellow-students, both at Upsal and at Paris, and loved each otherwith a cordiality that, like good wine, grew richer and more generouswith age.
Herr Kalm, stretching out his arms as if to embrace the lovely landscapeand clasp it to his bosom, exclaimed with fresh enthusiasm, "See Quebec,and live forever!"
"Dear Kalm," said the Governor, catching the fervor of his friend, as herested his hand affectionately on his shoulder, "you are as true a loverof nature as when we sat together at the feet of Linnaeus, our gloriousyoung master, and heard him open up for us the arcana of God's works;and we used to feel like him, too, when he thanked God for permittinghim to look into his treasure-house and see the precious things ofcreation which he had made."
"Till men see Quebec," replied Kalm, "they will not fully realize themeaning of the term, 'God's footstool.' It is a land worth living for!"
"Not only a land to live for, but a land to die for, and happy theman who dies for it! Confess, Kalm,--thou who hast travelled in alllands,--think'st thou not it is indeed worthy of its proud title of NewFrance?"
"It is indeed worthy," replied Kalm; "I see here a scion of the oldoak of the Gauls, which, if let grow, will shelter the throne of Franceitself in an empire wider than Caesar wrested from Ambiotrix."
"Yes," replied the Count, kindling at the words of his friend, "itis old France transplanted, transfigured, and glorified,--where herlanguage, religion, and laws shall be handed down to her posterity, theglory of North America as the mother-land is the glory of Europe!"
The enthusiastic Galissoniere stretched out his hands and implored ablessing upon the land entrusted to his keeping.
It was a glorious morning. The sun had just risen over the hilltops ofLauzon, throwing aside his drapery of gold, purple, and crimson. Thesoft haze of the summer morning was floating away into nothingness,leaving every object fresh with dew and magnified in the limpid purityof the air.
The broad St. Lawrence, far beneath their feet, was still partiallyveiled in a thin blue mist, pierced here and there by the tall mast of aKing's ship or merchantman lying unseen at anchor; or, as the fog rolledslowly off, a swift canoe might be seen shooting out into a streak ofsunshine, with the first news of the morning from the south shore.
Behind the Count and his companions rose the white glistening walls ofthe Hotel Dieu, and farther off the tall tower of the newly-restoredCathedral, the belfry of the Recollets, and the roofs of the ancientCollege of the Jesuits. An avenue of old oaks and maples shaded thewalk, and in the branches of the trees a swarm of birds fluttered andsang, as if in rivalry with the gay French talk and laughter of thegroup of officers, who waited the return of the Governor from thebastion where he stood, showing the glories of Quebec to his friend.
The walls of the city ran along the edge of the cliff upwards as theyapproached the broad gallery and massive front of the Castle of St.Louis, and ascending the green slope of the broad glacis, culminated inthe lofty citadel, where, streaming in the morning breeze, radiantin the sunshine, and alone in the blue sky, waved the white bannerof France, the sight of which sent a thrill of joy and pride into thehearts of her faithful subjects in the New World.
The broad bay lay before them, round as a shield, and glittering likea mirror as the mist blew off its surface. Behind the sunny slopes ofOrleans, which the river encircled in its arms like a giant lover hisfair mistress, rose the bold, dark crests of the Laurentides, liftingtheir bare summits far away along the course of the ancient river,leaving imagination to wander over the wild scenery in their midst--thewoods, glens, and unknown lakes and rivers that lay hid far from humanken, or known only to rude savages, wild as the beasts of chase theyhunted in those strange regions.
Across the broad valley of the St. Charles, covered with green fieldsand ripening harvests, and dotted with quaint old homesteads, redolentwith memories of Normandy and Brittany, rose a long mountain ridgecovered with primeval woods, on the slope of which rose the glitteringspire of Charlebourg, once a dangerous outpost of civilization. Thepastoral Lairet was seen mingling its waters with the St. Charles ina little bay that preserves the name of Jacques Cartier, who with hishardy companions spent their first winter in Canada on this spot, theguests of the hospitable Donacana, lord of Quebec and of all the landsseen from its lofty cape.
Directly beneath the feet of the Governor, on a broad strip of land thatlay between the beach and the precipice, stood the many-gabled Palaceof the Intendant, the most magnificent structure in New France. Its longfront of eight hundred feet overlooked the royal terraces and gardens,and beyond these the quays and magazines, where lay the ships ofBordeaux, St. Malo, and Havre, unloading the merchandise and luxuries ofFrance in exchange for the more rude, but not less valuable, products ofthe Colony.
Between the Palace and the Basse Ville the waves at high tide washedover a shingly beach where there were already the beginnings of astreet. A few rude inns displayed the sign of the fleur-de-lis or theimposing head of Louis XV. Round the doors of these inns in summer-timemight always be found groups of loquacious Breton and Norman sailors inred caps and sashes, voyageurs and canoemen from the far West in halfIndian costume, drinking Gascon wine and Norman cider, or the stillmore potent liquors filled with the fires of the Antilles. The Batturekindled into life on the arrival of the fleet from home, and in theevenings of summer, as the sun set behind the Cote a Bonhomme, thenatural magnetism of companionship drew the lasses of Quebec down tothe beach, where, amid old refrains of French ditties and the music ofviolins and tambours de Basque, they danced on the green with the jovialsailors who brought news from the old land beyond the Atlantic.
"Pardon me, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting," said the Governor, ashe descended from the bastion and rejoined his suite. "I am so proud ofour beautiful Quebec that I can scarcely stop showing off its charmsto my friend Herr Kalm, who knows so well how to appreciate them. But,"continued he, looking round admiringly on the bands of citizensand habitans who were at work strengthening every weak point in thefortifications, "my brave Canadians are busy as beavers on their dam.They are determined to keep the saucy English out of Quebec. Theydeserve to have the beaver for their crest, industrious fellows thatthey are! I am sorry I kept you waiting, however."
"We can never count the moments lost which your Excellency gives to thesurvey of our fair land," replied the Bishop, a grave, earnest-lookingman. "Would that His Majesty himself could stand on these walls and seewith his own eyes, as you do, this splendid patrimony of the crown ofFrance. He would not dream of bartering it away in exchange for pettyends and corners of Germany and Flanders, as is rumored, my Lord."
"True words and good, my Lord Bishop," replied the Governor; "theretention of all Flanders now in the strong hands of the Marshal de Saxewould be a poor compensation for the surrender of a glorious land likethis to the English."
Flying rumors of some such proposal on the part of France had reachedthe Colony, with wild reports arising out of the endless chafferingbetween the negotiators for peace, who had already assembled at Aix laChapelle. "The fate of America will one day be decided here," continuedthe Governor; "I see it written upon this rock, 'Whoever rules Quebecwill sway the destinies of the continent.' May our noble France be wise,and understand in time the signs of empire and of supremacy!"
The Bishop looked upwards with a sigh. "Our noble France has not yetread those tokens, or she misunderstands them. Oh, these faithfulsubjects of hers! Look at them, your Excellency." The Bishop pointedtoward the crowd of citizens hard at work on the walls. "There is nota man of them but is ready to risk life and fortune for the honor anddominion of France, and yet they are treated by the Court with suchneglect, and burdened with exactions that take from life the sweetreward of labor! They cannot do the impossible
that France requires ofthem--fight her battles, till her fields, and see their bread taken fromthem by these new ordinances of the Intendant."
"Well, my Lord," replied the Governor, affecting a jocularity he did notfeel, for he knew how true were the words of the Bishop, "we must alldo our duty, nevertheless: if France requires impossibilities of us, wemust perform them! That is the old spirit! If the skies fall upon ourheads, we must, like true Gauls, hold them up on the points of ourlances! What say you, Rigaud de Vaudreuil? Cannot one Canadian surroundten New Englanders?" The Governor alluded to an exploit of the gallantofficer whom he turned to address.
"Probatum est, your Excellency! I once with six hundred Canadianssurrounded all New England. Prayers were put up in all the churches ofBoston for deliverance when we swept the Connecticut from end to endwith a broom of fire."
"Brave Rigaud! France has too few like you!" remarked the Governor witha look of admiration.
Rigaud bowed, and shook his head modestly. "I trust she has ten thousandbetter;" but added, pointing at his fellow-officers who stood conversingat a short distance, "Marshal de Saxe has few the equals of these in hiscamp, my Lord Count!" And well was the compliment deserved: they weregallant men, intelligent in looks, polished in manners, and brave to afault, and all full of that natural gaiety that sits so gracefully on aFrench soldier.
Most of them wore the laced coat and waistcoat, chapeau, boots, laceruffles, sash, and rapier of the period--a martial costume befittingbrave and handsome men. Their names were household words in everycottage in New France, and many of them as frequently spoken of in theEnglish Colonies as in the streets of Quebec.
There stood the Chevalier de Beaujeu, a gentleman of Norman family, whowas already famed upon the frontier, and who, seven years later, in theforests of the Monongahela, crowned a life of honor by a soldier's deathon the bloody field won from the unfortunate Braddock, defeating an armyten times more numerous than his own.
Talking gayly with De Beaujeu were two gallant-looking young men ofa Canadian family which, out of seven brothers, lost six slain in theservice of their King--Jumonville de Villiers, who was afterwards, indefiance of a flag of truce, shot down by order of Colonel Washington,in the far-off forests of the Alleghenies, and his brother, Coulonde Villiers, who received the sword of Washington when he surrenderedhimself and garrison prisoners of war, at Fort Necessity, in 1754.
Coulon de Villiers imposed ignominious conditions of surrender uponWashington, but scorned to take other revenge for the death of hisbrother. He spared the life of Washington, who lived to become theleader and idol of his nation, which, but for the magnanimity of thenoble Canadian, might have never struggled into independence.
There stood also the Sieur de Lery, the King's engineer, charged withthe fortification of the Colony, a man of Vauban's genius in the art ofdefence. Had the schemes which he projected, and vainly urged upon theheedless Court of Versailles, been carried into effect, the conquest ofNew France would have been an impossibility.
Arm in arm with De Lery, in earnest conversation, walked the handsomeClaude de Beauharnais,--brother of a former Governor of the Colony,--agraceful, gallant-looking soldier. De Beauharnais was the ancestor of avigorous and beautiful race, among whose posterity was the fair Hortensede Beauharnais, who in her son, Napoleon III., seated an offshoot ofCanada upon the imperial throne of France long after the abandonment oftheir ancient colony by the corrupt House of Bourbon.
Conspicuous among the distinguished officers by his tall, straightfigure and quick movements, was the Chevalier La Corne St. Luc, suppleas an Indian, and almost as dark, from exposure to the weather andincessant campaigning. He was fresh from the blood and desolation ofAcadia, where France, indeed, lost her ancient colony, but St. Lucreaped a full sheaf of glory at Grand Pre, in the Bay of Minas, by thecapture of an army of New Englanders. The rough old soldier was just nowall smiles and gaiety, as he conversed with Monseigneur de Pontbriant,the venerable Bishop of Quebec, and Father de Berey, the Superior of theRecollets.
The Bishop, a wise ruler of his Church, was also a passionate lover ofhis country: the surrender of Quebec to the English broke his heart, andhe died a few months after the announcement of the final cession of theColony.
Father de Berey, a jovial monk, wearing the gray gown and sandals of theRecollets, was renowned throughout New France for his wit more than forhis piety. He had once been a soldier, and he wore his gown, as he hadworn his uniform, with the gallant bearing of a King's Guardsman. Butthe people loved him all the more for his jests, which never lacked theaccompaniment of genuine charity. His sayings furnished all New Francewith daily food for mirth and laughter, without detracting an iota ofthe respect in which the Recollets were held throughout the colony.
Father Glapion, the Superior of the Jesuits, also accompanied theBishop. His close, black soutane contrasted oddly with the gray, loosegown of the Recollet. He was a meditative, taciturn man,--seeming ratherto watch the others than to join in the lively conversation that went onaround him. Anything but cordiality and brotherly love reigned betweenthe Jesuits and the Order of St. Francis, but the Superiors were toowary to manifest towards each other the mutual jealousies of theirsubordinates.
The long line of fortifications presented a stirring appearance thatmorning. The watch-fires that had illuminated the scene during the nightwere dying out, the red embers paling under the rays of the rising sun.From a wide circle surrounding the city the people had come in--manywere accompanied by their wives and daughters--to assist in making thebulwark of the Colony impregnable against the rumored attack of theEnglish.
The people of New France, taught by a hundred years of almost constantwarfare with the English and with the savage nations on their frontiers,saw as clearly as the Governor that the key of French dominion hunginside the walls of Quebec, and that for an enemy to grasp it was tolose all they valued as subjects of the Crown of France.