Unholy Alliance (10 page)

“Ah, there’s Struthers now,” Macaulay said.
“He’s no horse whisperer like Harkness but a damn fine livestock
handler just the same.”

Marc was introduced to Abel Struthers and his
sixteen-year-old son, Cal. The party went into the horse-barn,
where they were given, in two languages, the grand tour. Marc
feigned as much interest as he could, considering that his mind was
already racing ahead to the pivotal meeting at eleven o’clock.
However, he did have time to take comfort in the fact that Bérubé
and Hincks had hit it off right away, and now the reserved and
sleep-deprived Erneste Bergeron was warming up to the eminently
likeable Garnet Macaulay.

***

At five minutes to eleven Marc arrived at the
library to find all the delegates there except Bergeron. Chilton
the butler was discreetly serving hot coffee to those seated around
the rectangular table. When he came around behind Macaulay, Marc
heard him say quietly, “As I mentioned yesterday, sir, I’ve found a
discrepancy between the number of bags of oats listed in your
accounts and the number Mr. Struthers claims have been delivered to
the stables.”

“You think Harkness may have taken some with
him when he left?” Macaulay said.

“I couldn’t say, sir, but I’d feel better if
I were to go out there and count them for myself – in the
daylight.”

“Ah, I see. You’d like permission to leave us
on our own at some point?”

“I would, sir. Bragg has agreed to serve the
two-thirty refreshments you’ve ordered. I shouldn’t be long.”

“No problem, Chilton. I applaud your
conscientiousness.”

Chilton bowed and was about to back out of
the room with his trolley when he was almost blindsided by Erneste
Bergeron stumbling past him, flushed and wide-eyed.

“What on earth’s the matter?” Macaulay said,
rising.

Bergeron looked wildly about, noticed the
others seated comfortably with their coffee around the table, took
a deep breath, and said in French, “We’ve got a spy amongst
us!”

The accusation needed no translation.

“That’s not possible, Erneste,” Macaulay said
evenly.

Everyone present, especially the Quebec
delegates, was staring at Bergeron, more in disbelief than
dismay.

“Would you be kind enough to explain?”
LaFontaine said with admirable calm.

Macaulay waived the butler out of the room.
Bergeron, at Macaulay’s urging, sat down, took another deep breath,
and said, “When I went up to my chamber a few minutes ago to fetch
my notes for this meeting, I noticed that someone had been
tampering with them.”

He waited while Marc translated.

“Stolen?” Bérubé said.

“No, not that. I left the three sheets of
paper on my night-table before I went for a walk to see the horses
– ”

“And they were not where you left them?”
Bérubé prompted.

“Oh, they were still there. But page three
had been placed where page two should have been. Someone must have
gone into my chamber and read what I had written about yesterday’s
discussion.”

LaFontaine looked steadily at his compatriot.
“Can you be absolutely sure that you left them in the proper order,
Erneste? Please, think carefully. We do not wish to have the
important business of this day distorted or sabotaged by concerns
over security.”

Bergeron flushed. “I am reasonably sure,” he
said hesitantly.

“Miss Finch has been instructed not to enter
your room to tidy up until we are safely in our meeting,” Macaulay
said, “unless specific requests are made for hot water or other
items. I will check with her and also speak to the other servants,
but I can assure you that they are completely trustworthy.
Moreover, none of them speaks or reads French, as you’ve probably
noticed by now.”

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping, have
you not, Erneste?” LaFontaine said kindly. “Is it not likely, and
certainly understandable, that you merely mixed the pages up
yourself? After all, you say they were still exactly where you had
left them.”

“You’re probably right,” Bergeron said with a
sigh. The dark patches under his eyes confirmed the state of his
fatigue. “I regret disrupting matters here. Please accept my
apologies.”

“Accepted,” Macaulay said. To the others he
said, “I asked my stableman Struthers to walk the periphery of the
estate this morning. He informs me that no-one has come onto or
left the property since the snow stopped at noon yesterday. We are
as secure as it is possible to be. I suggest we proceed with our
deliberations.”

Hincks and Robert looked much relieved. Marc
was as well, although it did occur to him that the only servant
Macaulay did not know much about was Graves Chilton.

The chairman began the meeting by encouraging
members to comment further on those items of their joint party
platform – step one as Robert had termed it – that had been raised
and more or less agreed upon yesterday. They had had the evening
and early morning to mull these matters over, and there were bound
to be clarifications required or additional points to be
considered. Daniel Bérubé was most happy to revisit the topic of
commerce and the myriad ways it could be increased once the double
yoke of British rule and priestly interference was lifted. Some
useful suggestions were made regarding a common tariff for the
canal system and the need to dredge a deeper channel through the
St. Clair River. The first new topic was the contentious issue of
land distribution. The Clergy Reserves question had been settled
last fall in Upper Canada, but both delegations were concerned
about the rapacious land-grant companies chartered in the upper
province and the vast fiefdoms of the seigneurs in Quebec, where
ordinary farmers were little better than serfs. Lots of inexpensive
arable land would be required if each half of the new dominion were
to grow and thrive. Maurice Tremblay spoke passionately about the
issue, but had no more practical remedies to suggest than anyone
else on either side of the table. Some headway was subsequently
made on squatters’ rights and more reasonable terms for
homesteading.

There followed a useful discussion of the
nature of the civil law to be adopted in each province. Quebec had
already been granted by Britain the right to use the Code Napoleon,
but Upper Canada, of course, was governed by British civil law and
its jurisprudence. Hincks pointed out that his understanding of the
new political structure was that Canada East and Canada West would
have separate, designated cabinet posts for both attorney-general
and solicitor-general, among others. Such a clear provincial
division of responsibility should make the application of differing
civil codes workable.

“But will the good English burghers of
Montreal not press for a uniform civil law,” Bérubé said with a
slight smile, “in order to facilitate a common commerce and
maintain them in a position of dominance?”

Robert looked at Hincks, who addressed the
question. “I am certain they will so press, but it will do them no
good. Governor Poulett Thomson has informed us that the decision
about these codes has already been taken. Our Hudson Bay merchants
will have to continue to use the Code Napoleon, whether they like
it or not.”

“Perhaps they may be encouraged to learn a
little French,” Robert said. “At least more than I have managed
to.”

“You may be assured, gentlemen,” Hincks
added, “that a united Reform party will make certain that this
arrangement endures.”

The next topic was the franchise. If power
were to be shifted away from the British governor and his appointed
councils to an elected assembly and its right to hold any cabinet
responsible to it alone, then who was to get elected there and who
was to cast his vote for that person became of paramount
importance. Bergeron spoke to the need for keeping the property or
income restrictions as liberal as possible. Small farmers and
self-employed tradesmen must be fully enfranchised, in particular
because they represented the natural constituency of the Reform
party.

“They also have a natural right to vote for
those who are to rule over them, do they not?” LaFontaine said,
breaking his customary initial silence.

“Government by the consent of the governed,”
Hincks agreed with enthusiasm.

“What about all those who were imprisoned or
charged with treason during the rebellion?” Tremblay said with
something close to a sneer. There was clearly a lot of anger still
smouldering in him, intensified perhaps by the sharp exchange with
LaFontaine at breakfast. “Hundreds of my fellows were released
before trial or granted amnesty or convicted and then let go. They
are in a legal limbo, are they not? Will they be able to hold
office? Will they even be able to vote?” That these questions were
meant to apply to him and his own situation did not have to be
stated.

“My sons would be among them,” Bérubé said,
shaking his head.

“Might not Mr. LaFontaine himself be banned
from holding office?” Bergeron asked.

“We have a similar problem in Upper Canada,
of course,” Robert said, “although most of our so-called rebels
have fled to the United States. As well, we went through a
reactionary period before our rebellion when attempts were made to
have resident aliens from the United States – about a quarter of
our population – made ineligible to stand for the Assembly. Even
their property rights were threatened, and the waiting period for
naturalization lengthened. These measures, prompted by panic and
blind prejudice, happily were resisted. At the moment, beneath the
heated rhetoric, there is in this province a longing for peace and
stability, and a mood of grudging forbearance. That is why it is
critical for us to unite as a party right from the outset of the
new parliament, to establish both our presence and our commitment
to liberal policies.”

“You are assuming, I take it,” Bergeron said,
“that such matters will be left to the colonial legislature and
that London will not decide them in advance as attachments to the
Union Act?” Despite his fatigue, Bergeron had been following every
argument with interest and contributing more than Marc had expected
he would, given his somewhat narrow band of concerns.

“That is correct,” Hincks said. “Likewise, it
will be left to the Assembly and the Upper House to decide on their
own protocols, including the use of French, which you can be
assured we will press for immediately.”

“I have a more general point to raise,”
LaFontaine said. “Like any other human endeavour, democracy must be
both learned and practised. In Quebec we have very little
experience with elections and local office-holding. In the villages
and countryside, we have no widespread experience with the election
of mayors and councillors. We have priests and parish officers, and
the English magistrate with his quarter sessions. I made several
attempts to convince Mr. Thomson of the need to include in the
Union Act adequate and mandatory provision for the establishment of
a fixed system of municipal governance. Our towns need mayors,
aldermen, bailiffs, dog-catchers. Our citizens need to see the
consequences of electing some of their own to govern them. But just
before I left Montreal, I learned that the Tory opposition of
Robert Peel in London rejected these clauses in the bill, and they
have been thrown out.”

Hincks’s brow creased with concern at these
remarks, the most sustained LaFontaine had so far made, though it
was plain that he could have made any of the points raised by his
colleagues if he had not preferred to sit back, Sphinx-like, and
observe the proceedings.

“I heard the same bad news,” Robert said,
“but in my latest communication with Mr. Poulett Thomson, he
assured me that, should the municipal-governance clauses be deleted
in London, he himself would use his executive authority to
establish a democratic municipal system throughout Quebec, as early
as September. My impression was that he was as concerned as you
that the Quebec people become immersed in local politics as soon as
possible.”

LaFontaine nodded his approval, which did not
come with a smile, however. Perhaps later, Marc thought.

“Gentlemen,” Garnet Macaulay said into the
momentary silence, “we have been at it for close to two hours. My
staff have prepared a light luncheon and set it out in the
dining-room. May I suggest that we repair to our own chambers to
freshen up, then proceed to our luncheon, and meet back here in
forty minutes?”

“I do believe we have reached consensus on a
basic party platform,” Hincks said happily. “I for one am ready to
celebrate with a little food and drink.”

“May I request one brief addition to the
platform,” Bérubé said, glancing at Robert, “before we leave step
one, that is?”

“It
is
brief, is it?” Hincks said with
a grin.

“Since we are making a sort of wish-list
here,” Bérubé continued before he could be stopped, “I suggest that
we go on record as a party endorsing Montreal as the natural
capital of Canada.”

This abrupt request caught the members
off-guard for a moment, as they were already anticipating the
pleasures that might await them in the dining-room. But Robert
replied graciously, “None of us has any particular liking for
Kingston as our capital, Daniel, but I’ve been told that Poulett
Thomson has already made up his mind about Kingston, despite its
being woefully unprepared for us.”

“I realize that,” Bérubé said, “but I’m
suggesting that we raise the issue as soon as we can in the new
Assembly, along with the use of French, and move to have the
capital shifted to Montreal as soon as possible.”

Robert looked around the table.

“I see no objection to making that a plank in
our platform,” Hincks said with some admiration for the Montreal
merchant’s willingness to engage freely in the give-and-take of
practical politics.