The bright sky
of old Stadacona will rapidly lower; leaden clouds, pregnant with
storms are hovering over head. The simplicity of early days is getting
obsolete. Vice, gilded vice, flaunts in the palace. Gaunt famine is
preying on the vitals of the people. 'Tis so at Versailles; 'tis so at
Quebec. Lust - selfishness - rapine - public plunder everywhere - except
among the small party of the Honnetes Gens: [120] a carnival of
pleasure, to be followed by the voice of wailing and by the roll of
the muffled drum.
In 1748, the evil genius of New France, "La Pompadour's
protege" Francois Bigot, thirteenth and last Intendant, had landed
at Quebec.
Born in Guienne, of a family distinguished at the bar, Bigot, prior to
coming to Canada had occupied the high post of Intendant in Louisiana.
In stature, he was small - but well formed; - active - full of pluck -
fond of display and pleasure - an inveterate gambler. Had he confined
his operations merely to trading, his commercial ventures would have
excited little blame, trading having been a practice indulged in by
several other high colonial officials. His salary was totally
inadequate to the importance of his office, and quite insufficient to
meet the expenditure his exalted position led him into. His
speculations, his venality, the extortions practised on the community
by his heartless minions: this is what has surrounded his memory with
eternal infamy and made his name a by-word for scorn.
