the mysterious power that this humble man exercises over others. A kind of charisma. It fascinates him.
After he graduates from Collége Notre-Dame, Maurice continues his classical studies at the Trois-Rivières Seminary. Even though he is only a teenager, people are already taking notice of his talent as an orator.
“Why not come to the Saint-Thomas-d’Aquin Academy?” a friend asks one day. “You like history and politics. I listened to your arguments about the Boer War and they were very convincing. You can take part in the debates we are organizing around certain themes. Next week, it will be Lincoln and the War of Secession. We need someone who will defend the Confederates. It’s a thankless role, but I can see you standing up for those who have been defeated.”
What an opportunity! Maurice is enthusiastic. He joins this group of young people who engage in spirited verbal matches. Elegant in his three-piece suits, with a trim moustache and his hair slicked back, he is impressive. And when he participates in the debates, he stirs up the audience. He soon stands out from the group.
“Who is that boy who speaks so well?”
“He’s the son of Nérée Duplessis, the former representative for Saint-Maurice. Watch him, he’ll go far, this young man. They say he can’t be beaten when it comes to politics.”
His reputation grows. His father, who holds a salon, introduces him to his friends, well-known members of the Conservative Party. Maurice talks about current affairs with historian-politician Thomas Chapais and two former premiers, Louis-Olivier Taillon and Edmund James Flynn. The year is 1908 and Trois-Rivières is slowly recovering from the great fire of June 22. Rumour says that the fire started in a stable with horses for hire. It spread like wildfire, destroying the centre of town. The business sector, the post office, the offices of the Canadian Pacific Railway, the beautiful parish church – a whole architectural heritage turned to ashes. The fire couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Industrialization had just started to draw rural families into the towns. But Trois-Rivières cannot compete with Montreal and Quebec City. Maurice reassures Thomas Chapais, who is worried about how the region will develop. He tells him that neither the Wabasso Cotton Company nor the Shawinigan Water and Power Company are about to leave town. And that reconstruction will help modernize their small city.
“Trois-Rivières, with the help of American capital, can become the new economic centre of Quebec,” says Maurice. “We have the forests for logging and the factories for producing pulp and paper. Loggers and workers come from everywhere to work here in the Mauricie region. And we are at midpoint on the river, which gives us the most sought-after resource in the twentieth century: electricity. The Shawinigan Power Company is our trump card. The fire is out; water is our future.”
Maurice’s intuition is accurate. He understands the challenge of the future. When he speaks, it’s easy to imagine that one day he will run for office.
“But I’m not even old enough to vote yet. First, I want to study law at Université de Laval in Montreal.”
His career plan is simple: finish his legal studies and then return to Trois-Rivières to open his own law practice. Maurice intends to climb the rungs of the profession step by step. And afterwards? When he is admitted to the Bar, there will be time enough to redirect his life. He doesn’t hide his ambitions, but he wants to consolidate his chances and learn the rules of the game before going into battle. Easy does it. This young man is not in a hurry. For the moment, he is busy making contacts and asking advice from his elders.
During a political meeting, he talks to Louis-Olivier Taillon, the patriarch with the white beard and the easygoing manner who seems to incarnate a wise man. Despite being defeated several times, the man’s authority has never been questioned. The elderly politician, feeling nostalgic, casts his mind back to the ultramontane movement. Ah! Those were wonderful times when the Zouaves marched to save the Pope. In 1868, one hundred and thirty-five volunteers left from Bonaventure Station, feeling brave and bold.
“Remember, Maurice, our faith and our language have saved the French-Canadian people. In politics, the Church is our ally. The Conservatives’ strength is based on the respect for tradition. The Liberals like to show off their great orators like Ernest Lapointe, but you’ll see, one day we’ll be back in power.”
Young Duplessis’s reply is lively and prompt:
“I also believe that. Henri Bourassa wants to be our new saviour, but Louis-Joseph Papineau’s grandson is in fact an imposter. On today’s political stage, the head of the nationalist movement doesn’t measure up. As for Lomer Gouin, he’s a Liberal with an eye on Ottawa. He is betting on both sides. We just have to be patient. The Conservative Party will rise from the ashes, believe me. It is never as much alive as when everyone is singing its swan song.”
The young man turns onto Saint-Hubert Street by way of Sherbrooke Street. Université Laval, located in the heart of the Latin quarter, is farther down Saint-Denis Street. This evening, Maurice is meeting friends at the Ouimetoscope movie house. They are showing the documentary Chutes du Niagara en hiver [Niagara Falls in Winter] and the silent film Le papillon humain [The Human Butterfly]. A novelty. Movies are in fashion and the archbishop of Montreal is starting to be wary of this kind of entertainment on a Sunday. But for the moment, at the corner of Montcalm and Sainte-Catherine streets, Maurice slips into the theatre along with the rest of the crowd. On the verge of obtaining his law degree, he cuts a fine figure. He is wearing a suit with a matching tie and breast pocket hanky. His hair is slicked back with perfumed pomade, and he sports a well-trimmed moustache. Son of a bourgeois family, he is a member of the privileged class. He exudes the good manners of his family. During a recent “model parliament” organized by the students of the law faculty and staged at the Monument National Theatre, he impressed his fellow students. He has talent, especially as a public speaker. He can control any audience. And he knows how to hold their attention.
“He is charismatic,” someone remarked. “The only problem is, he knows it.”
Before being admitted to the Bar in September 1913, Maurice Duplessis articles in Montreal in the offices of Monty & Duranleau, friends of his father’s. With them he is free to discuss legal affairs and political ideas. The two old-timers from the Bleus are furious at seeing the rising popularity of Nationalist leader Henri Bourassa who, in January 1910, founded the newspaper, Le Devoir. He is a pundit. When he speaks in the name of the French-Canadian nation, one can hear the voice of his ancestor, Papineau, leader of the Patriots of 1837. Duplessis, amused, watches this new leader of the defrocked ones from the past: “He makes me think of the Titanic that sank last year: a big ship that boasted it was unsinkable and was destroyed by an iceberg.”
Maurice, very perceptive, understands that French Canadians need political heroes. Since Confederation, it has always been the great orators who have defended the bastion of the French-Canadian nation threatened by assimilation. In Ontario, Bill 17, which declared English as the only language in the schools, cranked up Quebec patriotism by a notch. This is where the battle lies, thinks the young man. A wise decision, made at a time when those who want to run for office hesitate between Ottawa and Quebec City.
Prior to 1874, several politicians chose to represent both a federal and a provincial riding. Louis-Olivier Taillon, at the time leader of the Conservative Party and former premier of Quebec, had also been an MP in Ottawa, and even minister of postal services in the Tupper cabinet. But Maurice Duplessis is convinced Quebec is the battleground where the political rights of the French Canadians must be defended.
Already,
