Cameron of Lochiel

by Philippe Aubert de Gaspé

Ancienne Chanson.

It was scarcely five o'clock in the morning when Jules, who slept like a cat, shouted to Lochiel in the next room that it was high time they were up; but as the latter would make no response, Jules took the surest way of arousing him by getting up himself. Arming himself with a towel dipped in cold water, he entered his friend's bedroom and squeezed the icy fluid in his face. In spite of his aquatic inclinations, Archie found this attention very little to his taste; he snatched the towel, rolled it into a ball, and hurled it at Jules's head. Then he turned over and was preparing to go to sleep again, when Jules snatched off all the bed-clothes. It looked as if the fortress, in this extremity, had nothing to do but surrender at discretion; but the garrison, in the person of Lochiel, was more numerous than the besieging force in the person of Jules, and, shaking the latter fiercely, he asked if sleeping was forbidden at D'Haberville Manor. He was even proceeding to hurl the besieger from the ramparts when Jules, struggling in his adversary's mighty arms, begged him to listen a moment before inflicting such a disgrace upon a future soldier of France.

"What have you to say for yourself, you wretched boy?" exclaimed Archie, now thoroughly awake. Is it not enough for you that all day long you give me no peace, but even in the night you must come and torment me?"

"I am grieved, indeed," said Jules, "at having interrupted your slumbers; but as our folk have to set up another May-pole at the place of Bélanger of the Cross, a good mile and a half from here, they intend to present my father with his at six o'clock; and if you don't want to lose any of the ceremony it is time for you to dress. I declare, I thought everybody was like myself, wrapped up in everything that can bring us more in touch with our habitants. I do not know anything that moves me more than this sympathy between my father and his tenants, between our family and these brave lads; moreover, as my adopted brother, you will have your part to play in the approaching spectacle."

As soon as the young men had finished dressing, they passed from their room to one which looked out on the yard, where a lively scene met their view. There were at least a hundred habitants scattered about in groups. With their long guns, their powder-horns suspended from the neck, their tomahawks stuck in the girdle, their inseparable axes, they looked less like peaceful tillers of the soil than a band of desperadoes ready for a foray.

Lochiel was much amused by the spectacle, and wished to go out and join the groups, but Jules vetoed his proposal, saying that it would be contrary to etiquette. He explained that the family were all supposed to be unaware of what was going on outside, no matter how great the noise and excitement. Some were decorating the May-pole, others were digging the hole in which it was to be planted, while yet others were sharpening long stakes to be used in bracing it firmly. As for the May-pole itself, it was of the utmost simplicity. It consisted of a tall fir tree, with its branches cut off and peeled to within two or three feet of the top. Here a tuft of greenery, about three feet long, was permitted to remain, and dignified with the title of "the bouquet." This "bouquet" was ornamental enough so long as it kept green, but when withered by the heat of summer its appearance became anything but cheerful. A rod six feet long, painted red, surmounted with a green weather cock and adorned with a large red ball, was thrust between the branches of "the bouquet" and nailed to the tree, which completed the decoration of the May-pole. It is necessary to add that strong wooden pegs, driven into the trunk at regular intervals, facilitated the climbing of the May-pole, and served also as points of support for the props by aid of which it was raised into position.

The firing of a gun before the main entrance announced that every thing was ready. Immediately on this signal the seigneur and his family gathered in the drawing-room to receive the deputation which would follow immediately after the report. The seigneur occupied a great arm-chair, with Lady D'Haberville seated at his right and his son Jules at his left. Uncle Raoul, erect and leaning upon his sword, stood immediately behind this first group, between Blanche and Madame de Beaumont who were seated. Archie stood at Blanche's left. They were scarcely in position when two old men, introduced by José, the major-domo, approached Seigneur D'Haberville, saluted him with that courteous air which was natural to the early Canadians and begged his permission to plant a May-pole before his threshold. This permission granted, the deputation withdrew and acquainted the crowd with their success. Everybody then knelt down and prayed for protection throughout the day. In about fifteen minutes the May-pole rose over the crowd with a slow, majestic motion, and its green top looked down upon all the buildings surrounding it. A few minutes more and it was firmly planted.

A second gunshot announced a new deputation, and the same two old men, carrying their guns, escorted in two of the leading habitants. One of the habitants carried a little greenish goblet, two inches high, on a plate of faïence, while the other bore a bottle of brandy. Introduced by the indispensable José, they begged the seigneur to come and receive the May-pole which he had so graciously consented to accept. Upon the seigneur's response, one of the old men added:

"Would our seigneur be pleased to 'wet' the Maypole before he blackens it?" With these words he handed the seigneur a gun and a glass of brandy.

"We will 'wet' it together, my friends," said M. D'Haberville, making a sign to José, who at once hastened forward with a tray containing four glasses of the same cordial fluid. Then the seigneur rose, touched glasses with the four delegates, swallowed at a draught their brandy, which he pronounced excellent, took up the gun and started for the door, followed by all that were in the room.