[Footnote: _Histoire des Ursulines de Quebec_, I. 508; Juchereau, 378.] His most conspicuous though not his bitterest opponent, the intendant Champigny, thus announced his death to the court: "I venture to send this letter by way of New England to tell you that Monsieur le Comte de Frontenac died on the twenty-eighth of last month, with the sentiments of a true Christian. After all the disputes we have had together, you will hardly believe, Monseigneur, how truly and deeply I am touched by his death. He treated me during his illness in a manner so obliging, that I should be utterly void of grat.i.tude if I did not feel thankful to him." [Footnote: _Champigny au Ministre, 22 Dec._, 1698.]

As a mark of kind feeling, Frontenac had bequeathed to the intendant a valuable crucifix, and to Madame de Champigny a reliquary which he had long been accustomed to wear. For the rest, he gave fifteen hundred livres to the Recollets, to be expended in ma.s.ses for his soul, and that of his wife after her death. To her he bequeathed all the remainder of his small property, and he also directed that his heart should be sent her in a case of lead or silver. [Footnote: _Testament du Comte de Frontenac._ I am indebted to Abbe Bois of Maskinonge for a copy of this will. Frontenac expresses a wish that the heart should be placed in the family tomb at the Church of St. Nicolas des Champs.]

His enemies reported that she refused to accept it, saying that she had never had it when he was living, and did not want it when he was dead.

On the Friday after his death, he was buried as he had directed, not in the cathedral, but in the church of the Recollets, a preference deeply offensive to many of the clergy. The bishop officiated; and then the Recollet, Father Goyer, who had attended his death-bed, and seems to have been his confessor, mounted the pulpit, and delivered his funeral oration. "This funeral pageantry," exclaimed the orator, "this temple draped in mourning, these dim lights, this sad and solemn music, this great a.s.sembly bowed in sorrow, and all this pomp and circ.u.mstance of death, may well penetrate your hearts. I will not seek to dry your tears, for I cannot contain my own. After all, this is a time to weep, and never did people weep for a better governor."

A copy of this eulogy fell into the hands of an enemy of Frontenac, who wrote a running commentary upon it. The copy thus annotated is still preserved at Quebec. A few pa.s.sages from the orator and his critic will show the violent conflict of opinion concerning the governor, and ill.u.s.trate in some sort, though with more force than fairness, the contradictions of his character:--

_The Orator_. "This wise man, to whom the Senate of Venice listened with respectful attention, because he spoke before them with all the force of that eloquence which you, Messieurs, have so often admired,-- [Footnote: Alluding to an incident that occurred when Frontenac commanded a Venetian force for the defence of Candia against the Turks.]

_The Critic_. "It was not his eloquence that they admired, but his extravagant pretensions, his bursts of rage, and his unworthy treatment of those who did not agree with him."

_The Orator_. "This disinterested man, more busied with duty than with gain,--

_The Critic_. "The less said about that the better."

_The Orator_. "Who made the fortune of others, but did not increase his own,--

_The Critic_. "Not for want of trying, and that very often in spite of his conscience and the king's orders."

_The Orator_. "Devoted to the service of his king, whose majesty he represented, and whose person he loved,--

_The Critic_. "Not at all. How often has he opposed his orders, even with force and violence, to the great scandal of everybody!"

_The Orator_. "Great in the midst of difficulties, by that consummate prudence, that solid judgment, that presence of mind, that breadth and elevation of thought, which he retained to the last moment of his life,--

_The Critic_. "He had in fact a great capacity for political manoeuvres and tricks; but as for the solid judgment ascribed to him, his conduct gives it the lie, or else, if he had it, the vehemence of his pa.s.sions often unsettled it. It is much to be feared that his presence of mind was the effect of an obstinate and hardened self-confidence by which he put himself above everybody and every thing, since he never used it to repair, so far as in him lay, the public and private wrongs he caused. What ought he not to have done here, in this temple, to ask pardon for the obstinate and furious heat with which he so long persecuted the Church; upheld and even instigated rebellion against her; protected libertines, scandal-mongers, and creatures of evil life against the ministers of Heaven; molested, persecuted, vexed persons most eminent in virtue, nay, even the priests and magistrates, who defended the cause of G.o.d; sustained in all sorts of ways the wrongful and scandalous traffic in brandy with the Indians; permitted, approved, and supported the license and abuse of taverns; authorized and even introduced, in spite of the remonstrances of the servants of G.o.d, criminal and dangerous diversions; tried to decry the bishop and the clergy, the missionaries, and other persons of virtue, and to injure them, both here and in France, by libels and calumnies; caused, in fine, either by himself or through others, a mult.i.tude of disorders, under which this infant church has groaned for many years! What, I say, ought he not to have done before dying to atone for these scandals, and give proof of sincere penitence and compunction? G.o.d gave him full time to recognize his errors, and yet to the last he showed a great indifference in all these matters. When, in presence of the Holy Sacrament, he was asked according to the ritual, 'Do you not beg pardon for all the ill examples you may have given?' he answered, 'Yes,' but did not confess that he had ever given any. In a word, he behaved during the few days before his death like one who had led an irreproachable life, and had nothing to fear. And this is the presence of mind that he retained to his last moment!"

_The Orator._ "Great in dangers by his courage, he always came off with honor, and never was reproached with rashness,--

_The Critic._ "True; he was not rash, as was seen when the Bostonnais besieged Quebec."

_The Orator_. "Great in religion by his piety, he practised its good works in spirit and in truth,--

_The Critic_. "Say rather that he practised its forms with parade and ostentation: witness the inordinate ambition with which he always claimed honors in the Church, to which he had no right; outrageously affronted intendants, who opposed his pretensions; required priests to address him when preaching, and in their intercourse with him demanded from them humiliations which he did not exact from the meanest military officer. This was his way of making himself great in _religion and piety_, or, more truly, in vanity and hypocrisy. How can a man be called _great in religion_, when he openly holds opinions entirely opposed to the True Faith, such as, that _all men are predestined_, that _h.e.l.l will not last for ever_, and the like?"

_The Orator._ "His very look inspired esteem and confidence,--

_The Critic._ "Then one must have taken him at exactly the right moment, and not when he was foaming at the mouth with rage."

_The Orator._ "A mingled air of n.o.bility and gentleness; a countenance that bespoke the probity that appeared in all his acts, and a sincerity that could not dissimulate,--

_The Critic._ "The eulogist did not know the old fox."

_The Orator._ "An inviolable fidelity to friends,--

_The Critic._ "What friends? Was it persons of the other s.e.x? Of these he was always fond, and too much for the honor of some of them."

_The Orator._ "Disinterested for himself, ardent for others, he used his credit at court only to recommend their services, excuse their faults, and obtain favors for them,--

_The Critic_. "True; but it was for his creatures and for n.o.body else."

_The Orator_. "I pa.s.s in silence that reading of spiritual books which he practised as an indispensable duty more than forty years; that holy avidity with which he listened to the word of G.o.d,--

_The Critic_. "Only if the preacher addressed the sermon to him, and called him _Monseigneur_. As for his reading, it was often Jansenist books, of which he had a great many, and which he greatly praised and lent freely to others."

_The Orator_. "He prepared for the sacraments by meditation and retreat,--

_The Critic_. "And generally came out of his retreat more excited than ever against the Church."

_The Orator_. "Let us not recall his ancient and n.o.ble descent, his family connected with all that is greatest in the army, the magistracy, and the government; Knights, Marshals of France, Governors of Provinces, Judges, Councillors, and Ministers of State: let us not, I say, recall all these without remembering that their examples roused this generous heart to n.o.ble emulation; and, as an expiring flame grows brighter as it dies, so did all the virtues of his race unite at last in him to end with glory a long line of great men, that shall be no more except in history."

_The Critic_. "Well laid on, and too well for his hearers to believe him. Far from agreeing that all these virtues were collected in the person of his pretended _hero_, they would find it very hard to admit that he had even one of them." [Footnote: _Oraison Funebre du tres-haut et tres-puissant Seigneur Louis de Buade, Comte de Frontenac et de Palluau, etc., avec des remarques critiques_, 1698. That indefatigable investigator of Canadian history, the late M. Jacques Viger, to whom I am indebted for a copy of this eulogy, suggested that the anonymous critic may have been Abbe la Tour, author of the _Vie de Laval_. If so, his statements need the support of more trustworthy evidence. The above extracts are not consecutive, but are taken from various parts of the ma.n.u.script.]

It is clear enough from what quiver these arrows came. From the first, Frontenac had set himself in opposition to the most influential of the Canadian clergy. When he came to the colony, their power in the government was still enormous, and even the most devout of his predecessors had been forced into conflict with them to defend the civil authority; but, when Frontenac entered the strife, he brought into it an irritability, a jealous and exacting vanity, a love of rule, and a pa.s.sion for having his own way, even in trifles, which made him the most exasperating of adversaries. Hence it was that many of the clerical party felt towards him a bitterness that was far from ending with his life.

The sentiment of a religion often survives its convictions. However heterodox in doctrine, he was still wedded to the observances of the Church, and practised them, under the ministration of the Recollets, with an a.s.siduity that made full amends to his conscience for the vivacity with which he opposed the rest of the clergy. To the Recollets their patron was the most devout of men; to his ultramontane adversaries, he was an impious persecutor.

His own acts and words best paint his character, and it is needless to enlarge upon it. What perhaps may be least forgiven him is the barbarity of the warfare that he waged, and the cruelties that he permitted. He had seen too many towns sacked to be much subject to the scruples of modern humanitarianism; yet he was no whit more ruthless than his times and his surroundings, and some of his contemporaries find fault with him for not allowing more Indian captives to be tortured. Many surpa.s.sed him in cruelty, none equalled him in capacity and vigor. When civilized enemies were once within his power, he treated them, according to their degree, with a chivalrous courtesy, or a generous kindness. If he was a hot and pertinacious foe, he was also a fast friend; and he excited love and hatred in about equal measure. His att.i.tude towards public enemies was always proud and peremptory, yet his courage was guided by so clear a sagacity that he never was forced to recede from the position he had taken. Towards Indians, he was an admirable compound of sternness and conciliation.

Of the immensity of his services to the colony there can be no doubt.

He found it, under Denonville, in humiliation and terror; and he left it in honor, and almost in triumph.

In spite of Father Goyer, greatness must be denied him; but a more remarkable figure, in its bold and salient individuality and sharply marked light and shadow, is nowhere seen in American history.

[Footnote: There is no need to exaggerate the services of Frontenac.

Nothing could be more fallacious than the a.s.sertion, often repeated, that in his time Canada withstood the united force of all the British colonies. Most of these colonies took no part whatever in the war.

Only two of them took an aggressive part, New York and Ma.s.sachusetts.

New York attacked Canada twice, with the two inconsiderable war-parties of John Schuyler in 1690 and of Peter Schuyler in the next year. The feeble expedition under Winthrop did not get beyond Lake George. Ma.s.sachusetts, or rather her seaboard towns, attacked Canada once. Quebec, it is true, was kept in alarm during several years by rumors of another attack from the same quarter; but no such danger existed, as Ma.s.sachusetts was exhausted by her first effort. The real scourge of Canada was the Iroquois, supplied with arms and ammunition from Albany.]

CHAPTER XXI.

1699-1701.

CONCLUSION.

THE NEW GOVERNOR.--ATt.i.tUDE OF THE IROQUOIS.--NEGOTIATIONS.--EMBa.s.sY TO ONONDAGA.--PEACE.--THE IROQUOIS AND THE ALLIES.--DIFFICULTIES.-- DEATH OF THE GREAT HURON.--FUNERAL, RITES.--THE GRAND COUNCIL.--THE WORK OF FRONTENAC FINISHED.--RESULTS.

It did not need the presence of Frontenac to cause snappings and sparks in the highly electrical atmosphere of New France. Callieres took his place as governor _ad interim_, and in due time received a formal appointment to the office. Apart from the wretched state of his health, undermined by gout and dropsy, he was in most respects well fitted for it; but his deportment at once gave umbrage to the excitable Champigny, who declared that he had never seen such _hauteur_ since he came to the colony. Another official was still more offended. "Monsieur de Frontenac," he says, "was no sooner dead than trouble began. Monsieur de Callieres, puffed up by his new authority, claims honors due only to a marshal of France. It would be a different matter if he, like his predecessor, were regarded as the father of the country, and the love and delight of the Indian allies. At the review at Montreal, he sat in his carriage, and received the incense offered him with as much composure and coolness as if he had been some divinity of this New World." In spite of these complaints, the court sustained Callieres, and authorized him to enjoy the honors that he had a.s.sumed. [Footnote: _Champigny au Ministre,_ 26 _Mai,_ 1699; _La Potherie au Ministre,_ 2 _Juin,_ 1699; _Vaudreuil et La Potherie au Ministre, meme date_.]

His first and chief task was to finish the work that Frontenac had shaped out, and bring the Iroquois to such submission as the interests of the colony and its allies demanded. The fierce confederates admired the late governor, and, if they themselves are to be believed, could not help lamenting him; but they were emboldened by his death, and the difficulty of dealing with them was increased by it. Had they been sure of effectual support from the English, there can be little doubt that they would have refused to treat with the French, of whom their distrust was extreme. The treachery of Denonville at Fort Frontenac still rankled in their hearts, and the English had made them believe that some of their best men had lately been poisoned by agents from Montreal. The French a.s.sured them, on the other hand, that the English meant to poison them, refuse to sell them powder and lead, and then, when they were helpless, fall upon and destroy them. At Montreal, they were told that the English called them their negroes; and, at Albany, that if they made peace with Onontio, they would sink into "perpetual infamy and slavery." Still, in spite of their perplexity, they persisted in a.s.serting their independence of each of the rival powers, and played the one against the other, in order to strengthen their position with both. When Bellomont required them to surrender their French prisoners to him, they answered: "We are the masters; our prisoners are our own. We will keep them or give them to the French, if we choose." At the same time, they told Callieres that they would bring them to the English at Albany, and invited him to send thither his agents to receive them. They were much disconcerted, however, when letters were read to them which showed that, pending the action of commissioners to settle the dispute, the two kings had ordered their respective governors to refrain from all acts of hostility, and join forces, if necessary, to compel the Iroquois to keep quiet. [Footnote: _Le Roy a Frontenac, 25 Mars_, 1699. Frontenac's death was not known at Versailles till April. _Le Roy d' Angleterre a Bellomont, 2 Avril_, 1699; La Potherie, IV. 128; _Callieres a Bellomont, 7 Aout_, 1699.]

This, with their enormous losses, and their desire to recover their people held captive in Canada, led them at last to serious thoughts of peace. Resolving at the same time to try the temper of the new Onontio, and yield no more than was absolutely necessary, they sent him but six amba.s.sadors, and no prisoners. The amba.s.sadors marched in single file to the place of council; while their chief, who led the way, sang a dismal song of lamentation for the French slain in the war, calling on them to thrust their heads above ground, behold the good work of peace, and banish every thought of vengeance. Callieres proved, as they had hoped, less inexorable than Frontenac. He accepted their promises, and consented to send for the prisoners in their hands, on condition that within thirty-six days a full deputation of their princ.i.p.al men should come to Montreal. The Jesuit Bruyas, the Canadian Maricourt, and a French officer named Joncaire went back with them to receive the prisoners.

The history of Joncaire was a noteworthy one. The Senecas had captured him some time before, tortured his companions to death, and doomed him to the same fate. As a preliminary torment, an old chief tried to burn a finger of the captive in the bowl of his pipe, on which Joncaire knocked him down. If he had begged for mercy, their hearts would have been flint; but the warrior crowd were so pleased with this proof of courage that they adopted him as one of their tribe, and gave him an Iroquois wife. He lived among them for many years, and gained a commanding influence, which proved very useful to the French. When he, with Bruyas and Maricourt, approached Onondaga, which had long before risen from its ashes, they were greeted with a fusillade of joy, and regaled with the sweet stalks of young maize, followed by the more substantial refreshment of venison and corn beaten together into a pulp and boiled. The chiefs and elders seemed well inclined to peace; and, though an envoy came from Albany to prevent it, he behaved with such arrogance that, far from dissuading his auditors, he confirmed them in their resolve to meet Onontio at Montreal. They seemed willing enough to give up their French prisoners, but an unexpected difficulty arose from the prisoners themselves. They had been adopted into Iroquois families; and, having become attached to the Indian life, they would not leave it. Some of them hid in the woods to escape their deliverers, who, with their best efforts, could collect but thirteen, all women, children, and boys. With these, they returned to Montreal, accompanied By a peace emba.s.sy of nineteen Iroquois.

Peace, then, was made. "I bury the hatchet," said Callieres, "in a deep hole, and over the hole I place a great rock, and over the rock I turn a river, that the hatchet may never be dug up again." The famous Huron, Kondiaronk, or the Rat, was present, as were also a few Ottawas, Abenakis, and converts of the Saut and the Mountain. Sharp words pa.s.sed between them and the amba.s.sadors; but at last they all laid down their hatchets at the feet of Onontio, and signed the treaty together. It was but a truce, and a doubtful one. More was needed to confirm it, and the following August was named for a solemn act of ratification. [Footnote: On these negotiations, La Potherie, IV.