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Updated: May 26, 2025
It was a kind of summer carnival, with country excursions, dinners, balls, and merry- makings of every description, at which the great world and the demi- monde, both of them in considerable force, sometimes mingled in somewhat noisy fun. I recollect one extra riotous ball, at which the worthy mayor of Chantilly, M. Jaquin, thought it his duty to interfere, with the gendarmerie, to restore order.
Then there was a shout of "Long live Jaquin!" and the worthy man was carried round in triumph, while the fair ladies hastened to exert their blandishments upon the gendarmes. How could anybody be angry? The representatives of law and order fraternised with those of the other thing! and it all ended in smoke! So much for our evenings. In the daytime there was hunting.
There are the old Jesuit barracks, out of which went many a heroic soul to face martyrdom, there is the Chien d'Or, with its stone dog gnawing a bone, and the romance of Nicolas Jaquin Philibert, the brave Huguenot. There are old graveyards, where rest the pioneers who prayed, and hoped, and starved with Champlain.
And what's the figure over the doorway, Dave?" "That, Robert, is Le Chien d'Or, The Golden Dog. It's the sign put up by Nicholas Jaquin, whom they often called Philibert. This is his warehouse and he was one of the honnêtes gens that we've been talking about. He fought the corrupt officials, he tried to make lower prices for the people, and beneath his Golden Dog he wrote:"
On the Rue Buade, a street commemorative of the gallant Fontenac, stood the large, imposing edifice newly built by the Bourgeois Philibert, as the people of the Colony fondly called Nicholas Jaquin Philibert, the great and wealthy merchant of Quebec and their champion against the odious monopolies of the Grand Company favored by the Intendant.
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