The bright rays of the sun beat
in vain for admittance upon the closed doors and blinded windows,
but the splendor of midnight oil pervaded the interior of the stately
mansion, making an artificial night that prolonged the wild orgies of
the Intendant into the hours of day.

CHAPTER VII. THE INTENDANT BIGOT.

The Chateau of Beaumanoir had, since the advent of the Intendant Bigot,
been the scene of many a festive revelry that matched, in bacchanalian
frenzy, the wild orgies of the Regency and the present debaucheries
of Croisy and the petits appartements of Versailles. Its splendor, its
luxury, its riotous feasts lasting without intermission sometimes for
days, were the themes of wonder and disgust to the unsophisticated
people of New France, and of endless comparison between the extravagance
of the Royal Intendant and the simple manners and inflexible morals of
the Governor-General.

The great hall of the Chateau, the scene of the gorgeous feasts of the
Intendant, was brilliantly illuminated with silver lamps, glowing like
globes of sunlight as they hung from the lofty ceiling, upon which
was painted a fresco of the apotheosis of Louis XIV., where the Grand
Monarque was surrounded by a cloud of Condes, Orleanois, and Bourbons,
of near and more remote consanguinity. At the head of the room hung a
full-length portrait of Marquise de Pompadour, the mistress of Louis
XV., and the friend and patroness of the Intendant Bigot; her bold,
voluptuous beauty seemed well fitted to be the presiding genius of his
house. The walls bore many other paintings of artistic and historic
value. The King and Queen; the dark-eyed Montespan; the crafty
Maintenon; and the pensive beauty of Louise de la Valliere, the only
mistress of Louis XIV. who loved him for his own sake, and whose
portrait, copied from this picture, may still be seen in the chapel of
the Ursulines of Quebec, where the fair Louise is represented as St.
Thais kneeling at prayer among the nuns.

The table in the great hall, a masterpiece of workmanship, was made of
a dark Canadian wood then newly introduced, and stretched the length of
the hall. A massive gold epergne of choicest Italian art, the gift of
La Pompadour, stood on the centre of the table. It represented Bacchus
enthroned on a tun of wine, presenting flowing cups to a dance of fauns
and satyrs.

Silver cups of Venetian sculpture and goblets of Bohemian manufacture
sparkled like stars upon the brilliant t