Francois Bigot might have
saved New France, had he been honest as he was clever; but he was
unprincipled and corrupt: no conscience checked his ambition or his
love of pleasure. He ruined New France for the sake of himself and
his patroness and the crowd of courtiers and frail beauties who
surrounded the King, whose arts and influence kept him in his high
office despite all the efforts of the Honnetes Gens, the good and
true men of the Colony, to remove him.
He had already ruined and lost the ancient Colony of Acadia, through
his defrauds and malversations as Chief Commissary of the Army, and
instead of trial and punishment, had lately been exalted to the
higher and still more important office of Royal Intendant of New
France.
On the right of the Intendant sat his bosom friend, the Sieur Cadet,
a large, sensual man, with twinkling gray eyes, thick nose, and full
red lips. His broad face, flushed with wine, glowed like the
harvest moon rising above the horizon. Cadet had, it was said, been
a butcher in Quebec. He was now, for the misfortune of his country,
Chief Commissary of the Army and a close confederate of the
Intendant.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127