Le chien d'or. English

  CHAPTER XIV. THE COUNCIL OF WAR.

  The Council now opened in due form. The Secretary read the royaldespatches, which were listened to with attention and respect, althoughwith looks of dissent in the countenances of many of the officers.

  The Governor rose, and in a quiet, almost a solemn strain, addressed theCouncil: "Gentlemen," said he, "from the tenor of the royal despatchesjust read by the Secretary, it is clear that our beloved New France isin great danger. The King, overwhelmed by the powers in allianceagainst him, can no longer reinforce our army here. The English fleet issupreme--for the moment only, I hope!" added the Governor, as if with aprevision of his own future triumphs on the ocean. "English troops arepouring into New York and Boston, to combine with the militia of NewEngland and the Middle Colonies in a grand attack upon New France. Theyhave commenced the erection of a great fort at Chouagen on Lake Ontario,to dispute supremacy with our stronghold at Niagara, and the gates ofCarillon may ere long have to prove their strength in keeping the enemyout of the Valley of the Richelieu. I fear not for Carillon, gentlemen,in ward of the gallant Count de Lusignan, whom I am glad to see at ourCouncil. I think Carillon is safe."

  The Count de Lusignan, a gray-headed officer of soldierly bearing, bowedlow to this compliment from the Governor. "I ask the Count deLusignan," continued the Governor, "what he thinks would result fromour withdrawing the garrison from Carillon, as is suggested in thedespatches?"

  "The Five Nations would be on the Richelieu in a week, and the Englishin Montreal a month after such a piece of folly on our part!" exclaimedthe Count de Lusignan.

  "You cannot counsel the abandonment of Carillon then, Count?" A smileplayed over the face of the Governor, as if he too felt the absurdity ofhis question.

  "Not till Quebec itself fall into the enemy's hands. When that happens,His Majesty will need another adviser in the place of the old Count deLusignan."

  "Well spoken, Count! In your hands Carillon is safe, and will one day,should the enemy assail it, be covered with wreaths of victory, and itsflag be the glory of New France."

  "So be it, Governor. Give me but the Royal Roussillon and I pledge youneither English, Dutch, nor Iroquois shall ever cross the waters of St.Sacrament."

  "You speak like your ancestor the crusader, Count. But I cannot sparethe Royal Roussillon. Think you you can hold Carillon with your presentgarrison?"

  "Against all the force of New England. But I cannot promise the sameagainst the English regulars now landing at New York."

  "They are the same whom the King defeated at Fontenoy, are they not?"interrupted the Intendant, who, courtier as he was, disliked the tenorof the royal despatches as much as any officer present,--all the more ashe knew La Pompadour was advising peace out of a woman's considerationsrather than upholding the glory of France.

  "Among them are many troops who fought us at Fontenoy. I learned thefact from an English prisoner whom our Indians brought in from FortLydius," replied the Count de Lusignan.

  "Well, the more of them the merrier," laughed La Corne St. Luc. "Thebigger the prize, the richer they who take it. The treasure-chests ofthe English will make up for the beggarly packs of the New Englanders.Dried stock fish, and eel-skin garters to drive away the rheumatism,were the usual prizes we got from them down in Acadia!"

  "The English of Fontenoy are not such despicable foes," remarkedthe Chevalier de Lery; "they sufficed to take Louisbourg, and if wediscontinue our walls, will suffice to take Quebec."

  "Louisbourg was not taken by THEM, but fell through the mutiny of thebase Swiss!" replied Bigot, touched sharply by any allusion to thatfortress where he had figured so discreditably. "The vile hirelingsdemanded money of their commander when they should have drawn the bloodof the enemy!" added he, angrily.

  "Satan is bold, but he would blush in the presence of Bigot," remarkedLa Corne St. Luc to an Acadian officer seated next him. "Bigot keptthe King's treasure, and defrauded the soldiers of their pay: hence themutiny and the fall of Louisbourg."

  "It is what the whole army knows," replied the officer. "But hark! theAbbe Piquet is going to speak. It is a new thing to see clergy in aCouncil of War!"

  "No one has a better right to speak here than the Abbe Piquet," repliedLa Corne. "No one has sent more Indian allies into the field to fightfor New France than the patriotic Abbe."

  Other officers did not share the generous sentiments of La Corne St.Luc. They thought it derogatory to pure military men to listen to apriest on the affairs of the war.

  "The Marshal de Belleisle would not permit even Cardinal de Fleury toput his red stockings beneath his council-table," remarked a strictmartinet of La Serre; "and here we have a whole flock of black gownsdarkening our regimentals! What would Voltaire say?"

  "He would say that when priests turn soldiers it is time for soldiersto turn tinkers and mend holes in pots, instead of making holes in ourenemies," replied his companion, a fashionable freethinker of the day.

  "Well, I am ready to turn pedlar any day! The King's army will go to thedogs fast enough since the Governor commissions Recollets and Jesuits toact as royal officers," was the petulant remark of another officer of LaSerre.

  A strong prejudice existed in the army against the Abbe Piquet for hisopposition to the presence of French troops in his Indian missionaryvillages. They demoralized his neophytes, and many of the officersshared in the lucrative traffic of fire-water to the Indians. TheAbbe was zealous in stopping those abuses, and the officers complainedbitterly of his over-protection of the Indians.

  The famous "King's Missionary," as he was called, stood up with an airof dignity and authority that seemed to assert his right to be presentin the Council of War, for the scornful looks of many of the officershad not escaped his quick glance.

  The keen black eyes, thin resolute lips, and high swarthy forehead ofthe Abbe would have well become the plumed hat of a marshal of France.His loose black robe, looped up for freedom, reminded one of a gravesenator of Venice whose eye never quailed at any policy, however severe,if required for the safety of the State.

  The Abbe held in his hand a large roll of wampum, the tokens of treatiesmade by him with the Indian nations of the West, pledging their allianceand aid to the great Onontio, as they called the Governor of New France.

  "My Lord Governor!" said the Abbe, placing his great roll on the table,"I thank you for admitting the missionaries to the Council. We appearless as churchmen on this occasion than as the King's ambassadors,although I trust that all we have done will redound to God's glory andthe spread of religion among the heathen. These belts of wampum aretokens of the treaties we have made with the numerous and warlike tribesof the great West. I bear to the Governor pledges of alliance from theMiamis and Shawnees of the great valley of the Belle Riviere, which theycall the Ohio. I am commissioned to tell Onontio that they are at peacewith the King and at war with his enemies from this time forth forever.I have set up the arms of France on the banks of the Belle Riviere, andclaimed all its lands and waters as the just appanage of our sovereign,from the Alleghanies to the plantations of Louisiana. The Sacs andFoxes, of the Mississippi; the Pottawatomies, Winnebagoes, and Chippewasof a hundred bands who fish in the great rivers and lakes of the West;the warlike Ottawas, who have carried the Algonquin tongue to thebanks of Lake Erie,--in short, all enemies of the Iroquois have pledgedthemselves to take the field whenever the Governor shall require the axeto be dug up and lifted against the English and the Five Nations. Nextsummer the chiefs of all these tribes will come to Quebec, and ratify ina solemn General Council the wampums they now send by me and the othermissionaries, my brothers in the Lord!"

  The Abbe, with the slow, formal manner of one long accustomed to thespeech and usages of the Indians, unrolled the belts of wampum, manyfathoms in length, fastened end to end to indicate the length of thealliance of the various tribes with France. The Abbe interpretedtheir meaning, and with his finger pointed out the totems or signsmanual--usually a bird, beast, or fish--of the chiefs who had signed the
roll.

  The Council looked at the wampums with intense interest, well knowingthe important part these Indians were capable of assuming in the warwith England.

  "These are great and welcome pledges you bring us, Abbe," said theGovernor; "they are proofs at once of your ability and of your zealouslabors for the King. A great public duty has been ably discharged by youand your fellow-missionaries, whose loyalty and devotion to Franceit shall be my pleasure to lay before His Majesty. The Star of Hopeglitters in the western horizon, to encourage us under the clouds ofthe eastern. Even the loss of Acadia, should it be final, will becompensated by the acquisition of the boundless fertile territoriesof the Belle Riviere and of the Illinois. The Abbe Piquet and hisfellow-missionaries have won the hearts of the native tribes of theWest. There is hope now, at last, of uniting New France with Louisianain one unbroken chain of French territory.

  "It has been my ambition, since His Majesty honored me with theGovernment of New France, to acquire possession of those vastterritories covered with forests old as time, and in soil rich andfertile as Provence and Normandy.

  "I have served the King all my life," continued the Governor, "andserved him with honor and even distinction,--permit me to say this muchof myself."

  He spoke in a frank, manly way, for vanity prompted no part of hisspeech. "Many great services have I rendered my country, but I feelthat the greatest service I could yet do Old France or New would be theplanting of ten thousand sturdy peasants and artisans of France in thevalley of the far West, to make its forests vocal with the speech of ournative land.

  "This present war may end suddenly,--I think it will: the late victoryat Lawfelt has stricken the allies under the Duke of Cumberland a blowhard as Fontenoy. Rumors of renewed negotiations for peace are flyingthick through Europe. God speed the peacemakers, and bless them, Isay! With peace comes opportunity. Then, if ever, if France be true toherself and to her heritage in the New World, she will people the valleyof the Ohio and secure forever her supremacy in America!

  "But our forts far and near must be preserved in the meantime. We mustnot withdraw from one foot of French territory. Quebec must be walled,and made safe against all attack by land or water. I therefore willjoin the Council in a respectful remonstrance to the Count de Maurepas,against the inopportune despatches just received from His Majesty. Itrust the Royal Intendant will favor the Council now with his opinion onthis important matter, and I shall be happy to have the cooperation ofHis Excellency in measures of such vital consequence to the Colony andto France."

  The Governor sat down, after courteously motioning the Intendant to riseand address the Council.

  The Intendant hated the mention of peace. His interests, and theinterests of his associates of the Grand Company, were all involved inthe prolongation of the war.

  War enabled the Grand Company to monopolize the trade and militaryexpenditure of New France. The enormous fortunes its members made, andspent with such reckless prodigality, would by peace be dried up intheir source; the yoke would be thrown off the people's neck, tradewould again free.

  Bigot was far-sighted enough to see that clamors would be raised andlistened to in the leisure of peace. Prosecutions for illegal exactionsmight follow, and all the support of his friends at Court might not beable to save him and his associates from ruin--perhaps punishment.

  The parliaments of Paris, Rouen, and Brittany still retained a shadow ofindependence. It was only a shadow, but the fury of Jansenism suppliedthe lack of political courage, and men opposed the Court and its policyunder pretence of defending the rights of the Gallican Church and theold religion of the nation.

  Bigot knew he was safe so long as the Marquise de Pompadour governed theKing and the kingdom. But Louis XV. was capricious and unfaithful in hisfancies; he had changed his mistresses, and his policy with them, manytimes, and might change once more, to the ruin of Bigot and all thedependents of La Pompadour.

  Bigot's letters by the Fleur-de-Lis were calculated to alarm him. Arival was springing up at Court to challenge La Pompadour's supremacy:the fair and fragile Lange Vaubernier had already attracted the King'seye, and the courtiers versed in his ways read the incipient signs of afuture favorite.

  Little did the laughing Vaubernier forsee the day when, as Madamedu Barry, she would reign as Dame du Palais, after the death of LaPompadour. Still less could she imagine that in her old age, in the nextreign, she would be dragged to the guillotine, filling the streetsof Paris with her shrieks, heard above the howlings of the mob of theRevolution: "Give me life! life! for my repentance! Life! to devoteit to the Republic! Life! for the surrender of all my wealth to thenation!" And death, not life, was given in answer to her passionatepleadings.

  These dark days were yet in the womb of the future, however. The giddyVaubernier was at this time gaily catching at the heart of the King,but her procedure filled the mind of Bigot with anxiety: the fall of LaPompadour would entail swift ruin upon himself and associates. He knewit was the intrigues of this girl which had caused La Pompadour suddenlyto declare for peace in order to watch the King more surely in hispalace. Therefore the word peace and the name of Vaubernier were equallyodious to Bigot, and he was perplexed in no small degree how to act.

  Moreover, be it confessed that, although a bad man and a corruptstatesman, Bigot was a Frenchman, proud of the national success andglory. While robbing her treasures with one hand, he was ready withhis sword in the other to risk life and all in her defence. Bigot wasbitterly opposed to English supremacy in North America. The loss ofLouisbourg, though much his fault, stung him to the quick, as a triumphof the national enemy; and in those final days of New France, after thefall of Montcalm, Bigot was the last man to yield, and when all otherscounselled retreat, he would not consent to the surrender of Quebec tothe English.

  To-day, in the Council of War, Bigot stood up to respond to the appealof the Governor. He glanced his eye coolly, yet respectfully, over theCouncil. His raised hand sparkled with gems, the gifts of courtiers andfavorites of the King. "Gentlemen of the Council of War!," said he, "Iapprove with all my heart of the words of His Excellency the Governor,with reference to our fortifications and the maintenance of ourfrontiers. It is our duty to remonstrate, as councillors of the Kingin the Colony, against the tenor of the despatches of the Count deMaurepas. The city of Quebec, properly fortified, will be equivalent toan army of men in the field, and the security and defence of the wholeColony depends upon its walls. There can be but one intelligent opinionin the Council on that point, and that opinion should be laid before HisMajesty before this despatch be acted on.

  "The pressure of the war is great upon us just now. The loss of thefleet of the Marquis de la Jonquiere has greatly interrupted ourcommunications with France, and Canada is left much to its ownresources. But Frenchmen! the greater the peril the greater the gloryof our defence! And I feel a lively confidence,"--Bigot glanced proudlyround the table at the brave, animated faces that turned towardshim,--"I feel a lively confidence that in the skill, devotion, andgallantry of the officers I see around this council-table, we shall beable to repel all our enemies, and bear the royal flag to fresh triumphsin North America."

  This timely flattery was not lost upon the susceptible minds of theofficers present, who testified their approval by vigorous tapping onthe table, and cries of "Well said, Chevalier Intendant!"

  "I thank, heartily, the venerable Abbe Piquet," continued he, "for hisglorious success in converting the warlike savages of the West from foesto fast friends of the King; and as Royal Intendant I pledge the Abbeall my help in the establishment of his proposed fort and mission at LaPresentation, for the purpose of dividing the power of the Iroquois."

  "That is right well said, if the Devil said it!" remarked La Corne St.Luc, to the Acadian sitting next him. "There is bell-metal in Bigot, andhe rings well if properly struck. Pity so clever a fellow should be aknave!"

  "Fine words butter no parsnips, Chevalier La Corne," replied theAcadian, whom no eloquence could soften. "
Bigot sold Louisbourg!" Thiswas a common but erroneous opinion in Acadia.

  "Bigot butters his own parsnips well, Colonel," replied La Corne St.Luc; "but I did not think he would have gone against the despatches! Itis the first time he ever opposed Versailles! There must be somethingin the wind! A screw loose somewhere, or another woman in the case! Buthark, he is going on again!"

  The Intendant, after examining some papers, entered into a detail of theresources of the Colony, the number of men capable of bearing arms,the munitions and material of war in the magazines, and the relativestrength of each district of the Province. He manipulated his figureswith the dexterity of an Indian juggler throwing balls; and at theend brought out a totality of force in the Colony capable unaided ofprolonging the war for two years, against all the powers of the English.

  At the conclusion of this speech Bigot took his seat. He had made afavorable impression upon the Council, and even his most strenuousopponents admitted that on the whole the Intendant had spoken like anable administrator and a true Frenchman.

  Cadet and Varin supported their chief warmly. Bad as they were, bothin private life and public conduct, they lacked neither shrewdness norcourage. They plundered their country--but were ready to fight for itagainst the national enemy.

  Other officers followed in succession,--men whose names were alreadyfamiliar, or destined to become glorious in New France,--La Corne, St.Luc, Celeron de Bienville, Colonel Philibert, the Chevalier de Beaujeu,the De Villiers, Le Gardeur de St. Pierre, and De Lery. One and allsupported that view of the despatches taken by the Governor and theIntendant. All agreed upon the necessity of completing the walls ofQuebec and of making a determined stand at every point of the frontieragainst the threatened invasion. In case of the sudden patching up of apeace by the negotiators at Aix La Chapelle--as really happened--on theterms of uti possidetis, it was of vital importance that New France holdfast to every shred of her territory, both East and West.

  Long and earnest were the deliberations of the Council of War. Thereports of the commanding officers from all points of the frontier werecarefully studied. Plans of present defence and future conquest werediscussed with reference to the strength and weakness of the Colony, andan accurate knowledge of the forces and designs of the English obtainedfrom the disaffected remnant of Cromwellian republicans in New England,whose hatred to the Crown ever outweighed their loyalty, and who keptup a traitorous correspondence, for purposes of their own, with thegovernors of New France.

  The lamps were lit and burned far into the night when the Council brokeup. The most part of the officers partook of a cheerful refreshment withthe Governor before they retired to their several quarters. Only Bigotand his friends declined to sup with the Governor: they took a politeleave, and rode away from the Chateau to the Palace of the Intendant,where a more gorgeous repast and more congenial company awaited them.

  The wine flowed freely at the Intendant's table, and as the irritatingevents of the day were recalled to memory, the pent-up wrath of theIntendant broke forth. "Damn the Golden Dog and his master both!"exclaimed he. "Philibert shall pay with his life for the outrage ofto-day, or I will lose mine! The dirt is not off my coat yet, Cadet!"said he, as he pointed to a spatter of mud upon his breast. "A prettymedal that for the Intendant to wear in a Council of War!"

  "Council of War!" replied Cadet, setting his goblet down with a bangupon the polished table, after draining it to the bottom. "I would liketo go through that mob again! and I would pull an oar in the galleysof Marseilles rather than be questioned with that air of authority by abotanizing quack like La Galissoniere! Such villainous questions as heasked me about the state of the royal magazines! La Galissoniere hadmore the air of a judge cross-examining a culprit than of a Governorasking information of a king's officer!"

  "True, Cadet!" replied Varin, who was always a flatterer, and who atlast saved his ill-gotten wealth by the surrender of his wife as alove-gift to the Duc de Choiseul. "We all have our own injuries to bear.The Intendant was just showing us the spot of dirt cast upon him by themob; and I ask what satisfaction he has asked in the Council for theinsult."

  "Ask satisfaction!" replied Cadet with a laugh. "Let him take it!Satisfaction! We will all help him! But I say that the hair of the dogthat bit him will alone cure the bite! What I laughed at the most wasthis morning at Beaumanoir, to see how coolly that whelp of the GoldenDog, young Philibert, walked off with De Repentigny from the very midstof all the Grand Company!"

  "We shall lose our young neophyte, I doubt, Cadet! I was a fool to lethim go with Philibert!" remarked Bigot.

  "Oh, I am not afraid of losing him, we hold him by a strong triple cord,spun by the Devil. No fear of losing him!" answered Cadet, grinninggood-humoredly.

  "What do you mean, Cadet?" The Intendant took up his cup and drank verynonchalantly, as if he thought little of Cadet's view of the matter."What triple cord binds De Repentigny to us?"

  "His love of wine, his love of gaming, and his love of women--or ratherhis love of a woman, which is the strongest strand in the string for ayoung fool like him who is always chasing virtue and hugging vice!"

  "Oh! a woman has got him! eh, Cadet? Pray who is she? When once a womancatches a fellow by the gills, he is a dead mackerel: his fate is fixedfor good or bad in this world. But who is she, Cadet?--she must be aclever one," said Bigot, sententiously.

  "So she is! and she is too clever for young De Repentigny: she has gother pretty fingers in his gills, and can carry her fish to whatevermarket she chooses!"

  "Cadet! Cadet! out with it!" repeated a dozen voices. "Yes, out withit!" repeated Bigot. "We are all companions under the rose, and thereare no secrets here about wine or women!"

  "Well, I would not give a filbert for all the women born since motherEve!" said Cadet, flinging a nut-shell at the ceiling. "But this is arare one, I must confess. Now stop! Don't cry out again 'Cadet! out withit!' and I will tell you! What think you of the fair, jolly Mademoiselledes Meloises?"

  "Angelique? Is De Repentigny in love with her?" Bigot looked quiteinterested now.

  "In love with her? He would go on all fours after her, if she wantedhim! He does almost, as it is."

  Bigot placed a finger on his brow and pondered for a moment. "You saywell, Cadet; if De Repentigny has fallen in love with that girl, heis ours forever! Angelique des Meloises never lets go her ox until sheoffers him up as a burnt offering! The Honnetes Gens will lose one ofthe best trout in their stream if Angelique has the tickling of him!"

  Bigot did not seem to be quite pleased with Cadet's information. Herose from his seat somewhat flushed and excited by this talk respectingAngelique des Meloises. He walked up and down the room a few turns,recovered his composure, and sat down again.

  "Come, gentlemen," said he; "too much care will kill a cat! Let uschange our talk to a merrier tune; fill up, and we will drink to theloves of De Repentigny and the fair Angelique! I am much mistaken if wedo not find in her the dea ex machina to help us out of our trouble withthe Honnetes Gens!"

  The glasses were filled and emptied. Cards and dice were then calledfor. The company drew their chairs into a closer circle round thetable; deep play, and deeper drinking, set in. The Palais resounded withrevelry until the morning sun looked into the great window, blushing redat the scene of drunken riot that had become habitual in the Palace ofthe Intendant.