Phipps, whose appointment as governor had not been well received at Boston, and who consequently found himself involved in constant wrangling with some of the leading men of the place, was recalled about this time to England, where he died in the following year (1695). His successor, Stoughton, wrote a peremptory letter to the Abenaquis, calling upon them to bring in the prisoners they had taken. Those on the Kennebec returned a haughty answer; but a band from Father Thury's mission approached Fort Pemaquid under a flag of truce, and entered into a parley with the commandant, Chubb by name. Whether they sincerely meant to treat for peace is uncertain; Villebon says they were only pretending to do so. However this may have been, Chubb, without any positive knowledge of treachery on their part, opened fire on them, killed several, and made their chief, Egermet, a prisoner. A year later two French vessels under command of Iberville appeared before Pemaquid, landed cannon, and prepared to attack the place in concert with a large band of Indians led by Saint-Castin. Chubb at first put on a bold front; but scarcely had the firing begun before he offered to surrender, stipulating only that the lives of the garrison should be spared, and that they should be exchanged for French and Indian prisoners then at Boston. Iberville honourably observed the conditions, though his Indian allies, in their eagerness to be avenged on Chubb, were hard to restrain. Their vengeance, however, was only deferred. Chubb was accused at Boston of cowardice in surrendering the fort, and suffered imprisonment there for some months. After his release he retired to his home at Andover. Thither his relentless foes tracked him, and murdered both him and his wife at their own fireside.

CHAPTER XII

THE DRAMA OF WAR—PEACE AT THE LAST

Our narrative of the warfare on the New England frontier has somewhat outrun that of events in Canada proper. The safe arrival of the canoes from the West, the consequent revival of trade, and the comparative immunity from attack enjoyed by the country towards the close of the year 1693 had, as we have seen, made the governor more popular in the country than ever before. Still there were not a few who acknowledged his merits but grudgingly, while they had much to say in regard to the defects of his administration. Charlevoix says that, could he only have added to his own high qualities the virtues of his predecessor, the pious Denonville, he would have been perfect, and the condition of the colony would have left nothing to desire. Frontenac, however, could not be a Denonville any more than Denonville could have been a Frontenac. He was a religious man in the practical, businesslike way in which men with strong political instincts and aptitudes are apt to be religious. There was nothing mystical about him, and little that was sentimental. Religion, in his opinion, was a good thing, but it had its own place; it was meant to co-operate to good ends with the state, but not to dominate the state. In France such views might have passed unchallenged, for these were the days when Gallicanism was at its height, but in Canada they met with keen opposition. There, as already remarked, the leaders of the church hoped to be able to mould a state in which the secular power should find its greatest glory in being the handmaiden of the spiritual.

Resuming the complaints made against the governor, Charlevoix tells us that he was censured for his indulgence to the officers, whose esteem and attachment he was very anxious to enjoy, and that he let all the burden of the war fall on the colonists. There may have been a slight measure of truth in the accusation; but it is certain that many officers of the regular army died bravely fighting the battles of the country. That the militia were, on the whole, better and more skilful fighters than the regular troops was early discovered. Denonville, it may be recalled, made some very disparaging remarks in regard to the latter on the occasion of his expedition against the Senecas. Another accusation, for which there was undoubted foundation, was that the officers were allowed to retain the pay of the soldiers who received permission to do civilian work. A soldier could always earn in one form or another of manual labour, much more than his military wages amounted to; and the custom sprang up of retaining and dividing amongst the officers the pay of those who engaged in such labour. The court finally took cognizance of the practice, and condemned it. Still more serious complaint was made, Charlevoix says, of Frontenac's toleration of the liquor trade. He quotes on this subject a letter written by an ecclesiastic, the Abbé de Brisacier, to Père Lachaise, the king's confessor, in which it is stated that "brutalities and murders are being committed in the streets of Quebec by intoxicated Indian men and women, who in that condition have neither shame nor fear." There is also a letter extant from the worthy Superior of the Sulpicians at Montreal, M. Dollier de Casson, dated 7th October 1691, to a friend in France, that is really pathetic in its terms. If, he says, "our incomparable monarch" only knew the truth of the matter, "the uprightness of his intentions would not be misled by those numerous emissaries of the Evil One who spread the belief that without liquor we should have no savages visiting us and no fur trade." He speaks of liquor as "un damnable ecueil"—a damnable rock on which the poor Indian makes shipwreck—and gives a pitiful account of some of the horrors to be seen almost daily in the Indian missions. It may be doubted whether the condition of things was any worse in this respect under Frontenac than under Denonville, when the whole country seemed to be more or less paralyzed through the excessive use of brandy. It may possibly, indeed, have been better; the comparative efficiency of military operations may not unreasonably be held to point in that direction.

Frontenac and Champigny were not openly at strife, but judging by a letter written by the latter, and dated 4th November 1693, the governor acted very tyrannically towards him. He quotes the bishop as saying that Frontenac treats him (Champigny) worse than he ever treated Duchesneau. He only puts up with it, he says, in order to carry out his instructions to live peaceably with the governor at all costs, and in the hope that the minister will appreciate the sacrifice he is making.

Frontenac, when in France, had lived much at court, and had doubtless witnessed and participated in many of the elaborate festivities which royalty was wont to grace with its presence. It is not surprising that he was ambitious to have some little echo of Versailles in his mimic court at Quebec. Never had the public of that capital been so disposed to relaxation and enjoyment as in the winter of 1693-4 when the country seemed to see some days of prosperity and tranquillity before it. Great, therefore, was the enthusiasm when in the holiday season two dramatic representations were given at the château. Officers and ladies took part in the performances, and the plays Nicomède and Mithridate were wholly unobjectionable. Everybody was happy except the clergy, who saw in such mundanities the most serious danger to the spiritual welfare of the community. The Abbé Glandelet of the Seminary was the first to raise a cry of alarm, preaching a sermon in the cathedral, in which he essayed to prove that no one could attend a play without incurring mortal sin. Then the bishop issued a mandate a little more moderate in its terms, in which he distinguished between comedies innocent in their nature, but which under certain circumstances may be dangerous, and those which are absolutely bad and criminal in themselves, such as the comedy of Tartuffe and similar ones. Tartuffe, although his Majesty had listened to it on more than one occasion, and entertained a particular friendship for its author, was to the ecclesiastical world a terror. The bishop had heard a report that it was to be put upon the boards next, and fearing that his mandate alone might not have sufficient effect, he took occasion of a chance meeting with Frontenac to offer him a thousand francs if he would not produce it. Frontenac's friends say that he never had any intention of producing it; but he took the bishop's money all the same, and, it is stated, gave it next day to the hospitals. It is somewhat remarkable that Frontenac should have taken the money whether he did or did not intend to produce the play, and equally so that the bishop should have considered him accessible to a purely pecuniary argument in a matter of the kind.

It has been mentioned that in the summer of 1693 an Oneida chief had come to Quebec and talked of peace, and that, having gone back to his people, he returned in October with propositions which the governor contemptuously rejected. In the month of January following, two messengers came from the Iroquois country to say that, if they could have a safe-conduct, chiefs from each of the Five Nations would come down with authority to negotiate for peace. A safe-conduct was promised, but Frontenac expressly stipulated that one particular Onondaga chief, Teganissorens, with whom he had had negotiations many years before, should accompany the delegation. In April a number of delegates came, but without Teganissorens. Frontenac refused to deal with them, and said that if any of them dared to come to see him again without that chief, he would put them into the kettle. This had its effect, for towards the end of May two delegates from each nation came down, Teganissorens being of the number. Belts were presented, and the language of the delegates was all that could be desired. "Onontio," said Teganissorens, presenting the sixth belt, "I speak to you in the name of the Five Nations. You have devoured all our chief men, and scarce any more are left. I ought to feel resentment on account of our dead. By this belt I say to you that we forget them; and, as a token that we do not wish to avenge them, we throw away and bury our hatchet under the ground, that it may never more be seen. To preserve the living we shall think no more of the dead." The personal appearance of the orator, known to the English as Decanisora, has been described by Colden in his History of the Five Nations, published in 1727. According to that author he was a tall, well-formed man, with a face not unlike the busts of Cicero; and we know from the French official narrative that he spoke with remarkable fluency and grace. The count replied in a conciliatory manner; on both sides there seemed to be good dispositions towards peace, but yet no definite understanding was arrived at. The Iroquois wished to include the English in the peace, but Frontenac, of course, was not at liberty to make peace with a people with whom his master, the French king, was at war. The savages agreed, however, to give up their prisoners; and Orehaoué was sent with them to accept delivery of the captives and bring them back. The Onondagas for some reason refused to surrender theirs, but the other tribes made good the promise of their delegates. Among those who were released were some who had been detained since the massacre of Lachine, and in general they had not much complaint to make of their treatment. It was a proud day for Orehaoué when, completing the important duty entrusted to him, he was able to restore the long missing ones to country and home.

The majority of the tribes must have wished for peace, or they would not have given up their prisoners. It was, however, as much against the interest of the English to have peace established between the Iroquois and the French, as it was against the interest of the latter that there should be peace between the Abenaquis and the New Englanders. A long period of intrigue followed, with plotting and counter-plotting between the different parties concerned. The English on their side were striving to stir up the Iroquois against the French, and the French on theirs to incite the Abenaquis against the English; the Iroquois talked peace to the French, but were working all the time to draw the Lake tribes away from their alliance; while the French commanders in the West were doing their best to keep their Indians on the war-path against the Iroquois. Intrigue reigned too among the Lake tribes; for an influential chief called the Baron was trying hard to persuade them to join the Iroquois. Some horrible treacheries and cruelties were meantime being perpetrated in that region. The French at Michilimackinac, where La Motte Cadillac had replaced Louvigny, killed two Iroquois who had been brought into the camp in the guise of prisoners, but who were suspected of being emissaries from their nation acting in collusion with the Baron. The latter and his associates were very angry at first, but in the end yielded to the French, and handed over another Iroquois, whom they had with them. The French determined, La Potherie says, to make an example of him. The Ottawas were invited "to drink the broth of an Iroquois," which they did after the victim had been put to death with cruel tortures in which a Frenchman took the lead. Not long after four others were similarly treated. The object, of course, in getting the Ottawas and Hurons to participate in these cruelties was to render peace with the Iroquois impossible.