Unholy Alliance (7 page)

At this remark, everyone turned to
LaFontaine, but he said nothing. His expression was impassive. He
simply waited, unperturbed, as the silence grew and bright sunlight
poured into the room from the high windows in the south wall.

Daniel Bérubé cleared his throat nosily.
“What’s the use of controlling the Assembly when the Legislative
Councillors will be appointed for life by the governor and will
have the authority to thwart our progressive legislation, as they
have done in the past?”

“Half of them will be appointed from Quebec,”
Hincks pointed out.

“And of those, how many will be English, eh?”
Tremblay said, breaking his self-imposed silence. “And how many
members will be
Chasseurs
?” he added, alluding to the name
the French patriots had given to their doomed revolutionary
organization.

“We’ll end up with the same sort of deadlock
we’ve always had,” Bérubé insisted.

LaFontaine made no effort to intervene in
this sharp exchange.

“Gentlemen,” Robert said quietly, “I realize
that these are critical questions, but please bear with us. Francis
and I have developed a plan to achieve our goals that is predicated
on moving one important step at a time. The first step, upon which
agreement must be reached or the entire project abandoned, is this:
do we have in common a set of policies and priorities stable enough
to build a functioning political party upon? And I’m referring to
fiscal, economic, legal and social policies. Further, do we share a
vision of the future for two provinces, two cultures and two
languages? If we don’t, then I suggest we have a good supper, shake
hands and go our separate ways.”

“You’re asking us to postpone the other
questions while we talk over the nitty-gritty items – like trade
and the money supply?” Bérubé said.

“And education and land grants and public
works,” Hincks said.

“Exactly,” Robert said. “It seems to me that
these are issues that have turned all of us in this room into
reformers of one kind or another.”

Tremblay, Bérubé and Bergeron (who had said
nothing but had taken everything in) now looked at their leader.
LaFontaine nodded. Marc could hear the sigh of relief uttered by
Hincks sitting next to him.

“Right, then,” Robert said. “Let us proceed
to tackle these issues one by one. Who would like to begin?”

At this point Graves Chilton slipped into the
room so quietly that only Garnet Macaulay noticed him poised above
a tea-trolley just inside the doorway. Macaulay dipped his chin,
and Chilton sidled around the delegates and deposited a steaming
cup of coffee before each one without ruffling a cuff or stinting
the flow of conversation. He even managed to slip a dish of
macaroons silently alongside Robert Baldwin’s coffee cup. Chilton
alone was to be allowed into the room at predetermined intervals to
serve refreshment and clear away unwanted dishes, after which he
was to slip across the hall to his office, where he kept watch with
the door open. Again, Marc was impressed with the security
precautions Macaulay had taken. No employee was to leave the
grounds of Elmgrove between now and Friday evening: sufficient
supplies of food and drink had been laid in for the duration. They
were snowbound, and safe. The rest was up to the men in this
room.

***

Looking steadily at Bérubé while he spoke and Marc
translated, Francis Hincks said, “The economic development of each
of our provinces has been stunted and strangled for almost ten
years because successive governors and their reactionary
administrations have been terrified of the emergence of an
entrepreneurial middle class, one whose success would threaten
their chokehold on the banking system and challenge their right to
appoint their friends and relations to government posts, where
their incompetence compounds the injury. Both provinces need public
improvements to foster trade and industry. Our roads are a
disgrace, our canal system is in need of renewal and expansion, our
city streets need paving, and our postal service must be
modernized.”

Bérubé nodded enthusiastically long before
Marc had finished translating.

“But these improvements will be financed
principally by one province, will they not?”

It was LaFontaine, who had spoken for the
first time on an issue, and all eyes turned to him. But he did not
elaborate. Finally, Hincks said, “You are referring, of course, to
the fact that the Upper Canadian debt of eighty thousand pounds
will be taken over by the new dominion?”

Tremblay did not wait for the translation.
“In being compelled to merge with you, we are to start out as an
insolvent state!” he said angrily. “At the present we in Quebec
have no public debt, not a penny! How can we begin to collaborate
with you English when such an inequity stares us in the face?”

“I agree, sir, that the inequity exists,”
Hincks said, “and we did all we could last fall in our Assembly to
get better terms for the union. But the union itself is as good as
made. We can’t be expected to review or regret the terms that will
be law in a month or two.”

“Yes, but it is also expected that we begin
by being able to trust one another and to feel comfortable with
each other’s motives,” Tremblay said, not quite as angrily but
forcefully nonetheless. “When we see the terms of union so
blatantly stacked against us – we’ve got half the seats but
three-fifths of the population and only
your
language is to
be spoken in the Legislature – how are we to put any faith in your
claims and promises?”

“Mr. LaFontaine here has spoken eloquently
from a dozen platforms about the injustices of the Union Act,”
Bergeron said evenly. “We have come here with our distinguished
leader as a courtesy to him – to listen and judge for ourselves
whether there are English voices worth our attention. It is
you
, sirs, who must convince
us
that our dangerous
journey and audacious gamble have been worthwhile.”

LaFontaine made no sign that he acknowledged
the reference to him or approved of the remark itself. Marc was
beginning to wonder what sort of game he was playing.

It was Robert who calmed the waters. “I
suggest, Mr. Tremblay, that we all remember how we reached the
current financial state. Upper Canada’s debt is almost entirely due
to the costs incurred by our failed revolt and its deadening
aftermath. They are not representative of our economic potential.
And in Quebec you are debtless because the governing establishment,
abetted by the seigneurs and churchmen, have set out to stifle
enterprise except where it enriches them and furthers their own
interests. In that respect, both provinces desperately need a
reform-minded government. Our joint prosperity, once achieved, will
make both the debt and the injustice a distant memory. Moreover, if
we don’t mutually believe that a united Canada can evolve into a
progressive and more democratic and economically viable state, then
I agree we are wasting our time.”

Marc was certain he saw a smile hovering at
the corners of LaFontaine’s mouth.

“Socially progressive, democratic, and
economically stable,” Hincks said slowly, pausing between each
descriptor to let Marc translate. “These are words that strike a
chord in you, do they not, gentlemen?” he added, gazing at the
French delegates opposite him.

Bérubé nodded and smiled. Bergeron nodded.
Tremblay looked stricken, and glanced across at his leader.
LaFontaine responded in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone: “Then let
us get down to the nitty-gritty, as my colleague has termed
it.”

***

The economy was the obvious place to start, and
Bérubé warmed to the topic quickly, often outracing the translation
and straining to interpret Hincks’s comments and replies on his
own. Specific improvements to the Lachine Canal and the St.
Lawrence waterway around Montreal Island, and enhanced harbour
facilities there and at Kingston, Toronto and Burlington were
suggested and seconded. Hincks went on to dazzle the guests with
his grasp of taxation issues and a revised scheme of tariffs – all
designed to take advantage of the natural highway provided by the
St. Lawrence and the Great Lakes into the very heart of North
America. Montreal was perfectly situated to be the nexus of the
import-export business, while Toronto would increasingly be the
entry point for a vast hinterland just now being fully opened to
settlement and commerce.

“For too long,” Bérubé stated so passionately
that his pink face flushed scarlet, “those Frenchmen with an
entrepreneurial urge have had to sit and twiddle their thumbs while
the English monopolies and English governors and English bankers
reaped huge profits. My sons have had to consider the law or the
priesthood because they have had no other choice. It was no
surprise to me when they joined Papineau and Nelson in the
uprising. I cheered them on.” He looked now at Robert and added,
“What Mr. Hincks has outlined here is a vision of the kind I have
dreamed about all my life. I don’t know whether or not the
political arrangements you intend to propose later in these
meetings will be able to bring it about, but something
must
do so or we are doomed as a race.”

Robert smiled gravely, but before he could
respond Erneste Bergeron leaned forward and said, “There is more to
our future than commerce or industry.” He glanced at LaFontaine,
and then continued. “I refer, of course, to the question of
education and religion. I have been told that you, Mr. Baldwin,
have advocated a secular society and a secular system of schools.
We in Quebec are a Christian community, a Catholic one. The church
and parish are the focal points of our rural life. Back in
‘thirty-seven I took up arms for the first time in my life to
defend the little church at St. Eustache, near my estate, and was
captured and imprisoned for a month by the marauding militia. The
church was callously razed by those hooligans and two of my barns
burnt to the ground. These are not the actions of a people who
respect religion.” It was the longest speech given by Bergeron, and
it seemed to leave him winded and a bit embarrassed.

Robert did not wait for Marc to finish
translating. “You raise a serious question, sir, and a valid one. I
have indeed fought all my life against the entrenchment of an
established Church of England in Upper Canada. The reason I did so
has little to do with religion and everything to do with politics
and power. I am a devout Christian of the Anglican faith, but in my
province the oligarchy who held sway over the ordinary people – the
Family Compact as we called them – wished to have a state-supported
Anglican church in order to solidify their hold on power and tap
into the proceeds from the reserve lands they considered their
entitlement. They wished to develop not a Christian society but an
Anglican one in which government posts, school syllabuses, and
universities themselves would be controlled and financed by a
single cabal – to the exclusion of the other faiths, which, taken
together, form a large majority. In a way, my battles against the
Clergy Reserves were symbolic: were our lives going to be dominated
by an Anglican and Tory elite or were they going to be organized as
the majority wished – in a state dedicated to religious tolerance
and respect for tradition?”

LaFontaine smiled approvingly, a response
noticed by all present as the French leader had said little so far
and given nothing away in look or gesture. “Well said, Robert.
However, I ought to point out that when the Clergy Reserves were
finally allotted last year, all faiths got their share except for
the Roman Catholics.”

Robert nodded in the polite way barristers
often did when engaged in forensic argument. “Very true. But again
I say we must look at our progress in terms of successive steps.
There will perforce be no established church in the new Canada.
Religion will be a question of individual conscience. As a
consequence, there will be no restrictions on who may serve in
government. Catholic and Protestant will be equal before the law.
Additional rights and protections can be achieved through elections
and party politics. That is the next step, and the one after
it.”

“But we already have our own schools,”
Bergeron said, “imbued with our own religious spirit and values. Do
you contemplate a common school system with no religious component
or merely some vague lip service paid to Christianity?”

Hincks glanced at Robert, then said, “The
English-speaking
Protestants
in Quebec are equally concerned
that
their
schools be permitted to be run along religious
lines. Once we get a reform movement established, would it not be
natural for each province to guarantee the other’s right to set up
minority schools – a straight trade-off of ‘protections,’ as it
were?”

Bérubé chortled at this and said, “Splendid,
Mr. Hincks, splendid! This is the very kind of sensible
horse-trading I hoped might happen between us, but was, alas,
entirely sceptical of.”

Under cover of Bérubé’s enthusiastic
outburst, Graves Chilton slipped silently into the room with a
trolley of cakes and coffee. While he was serving the refreshment
and soundlessly removing the used cups, the delegates took a moment
to stretch and relax. However, as the butler left the room, Garnet
Macaulay seemed to recall that he was nominally the chairman of the
meeting, and said, “We have heard much about the specifics of a
party platform, but no contribution thus far from Mr. Tremblay. Are
there any particular concerns or provisions you’d like to mention,
sir?”

Tremblay had not only kept his peace
throughout the preceding discussion, but had stared grimly at his
empty cup, and the two-fingered right hand had often appeared to
tremble, as if palsied. He now peered up just far enough to glare
at Macaulay, who reddened immediately.