Maurice Duplessis. Marguerite Paulin

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      Maurice receives his many clients and voters at his office on Hart Street. To the former, he is generous with his advice. To the latter, he promises to present their demands to the Legislative Assembly. When a good Conservative is looking for a job, Duplessis promises to find him one. People trust their MLA from Trois-Rivières, who doesn’t count the hours when he’s working to improve the lives of his fellow citizens. One day, Miss Cloutier asks him:

      “You are free to answer or not, Mr. Duplessis, but I would like to know why I have to keep collecting all these death notices. These people don’t count anymore!”

      “Miss Cloutier, this list is very important, possibly even more so than the list of the living because, at the next election, there will be no more telegrams, no more cheating. My opponent will no longer be able to make the dead people vote. I’ll know their names before he does!”

      Duplessis leaves nothing to chance. His past mistakes have served as useful lessons. He has been in politics for almost ten years now. Nowadays, he can sense the slightest nuance. More seasoned than ever, Maurice starts off the year by steering clear of party squabbles. It is 1929. On the radio Albert Marier sings Votre avion va-t-il au paradis? [Is your airplane taking you to heaven?], a popular song by Roméo Beaudry, one of the rare French Canadians whose songs have made the hit parade. Everyone knows the refrain that pays tribute to Charles Lindbergh in a roundabout way. Yes, the Twenties are having a beautiful ending. After the disillusionments of the Great War, the Roaring Twenties have infused everyone with new confidence.

      The year 1929 is a carefree year despite the bad news that is going around. Here and there, economists are warning people: keep an eye on the stock market, stocks are fluctuating wildly. The impression of prosperity is only an illusion, be careful. While Herbert Hoover, president of the United States, talks about an era of abundance, in Canada, Mackenzie King is gearing up for the next election, which he might lose to the Conservative R.B. Bennett. In Quebec, Premier Taschereau appears secure. Who could possibly rob him of his crown?

      Camillien Houde? After much hesitation, it seems that he will stand as candidate for the leadership of the Conservatives. Yes, Arthur Sauvé has finally yielded. At the upcoming convention to be held at the Château Frontenac, the only pretender to his succession will be the little guy from Sainte-Marie.

      Maurice Duplessis chuckles under his breath.

      At the beginning of July, 1200 delegates meet in Quebec City. Camillien Houde is seated on the VIP stand and is given an ovation. The member from Trois-Riviéres is greeted just as warmly. Many would like to see Duplessis change his mind and run against the mayor of Montreal. But there is no chance of that. “If my name is put forward, I will turn down the offer,” he informs the campaign organizers. The road is clear for Camillien. On July 20, 1929, the Bleus have a new leader: “He’s our Mussolini!” they cry while the band plays Vive la Canadienne¹. At the time, the Italian leader is basking in the glow of admiration, so this comparison is very flattering. The easygoing Camillien comes forward amidst much applause. Maurice imagines the populist Houde confronting the distinguished Taschereau at the Legislative Assembly. It will be quite a show to see Camillien in the Opposition, he tells himself. When I go for the nomination, it will be as leader of the majority.

      “When I’m leader of the Conservatives, it will be to be premier,” he mutters to himself.

      October 24, 1929 falls on a Thursday. Black Thursday. A day of disaster. The Crash. The New York Stock Exchange spins out of control. Capitalism, the cherished ideal upon which Americans have built their dream of prosperity, is crumbling. Within a few weeks, thousands of workers are jobless. Unemployment is rampant.

      The province of Quebec doesn’t escape the effects of the crisis. The poor are lining up for their meagre meal. Soup kitchens are set up to feed hungry families. It promises to be a harsh winter. How will people heat their homes? There is no money for coal or warm clothes. In Montreal, the Meurling Shelter is looking after more than seven hundred men. On Berri Street, men, women, and children in rags wait in line for food at the doors of the institute for deaf-mutes.

      “It’s terrible to see, Miss Cloutier.”

      Maurice has made a short stopover in the metropolis. Like many others, he compares the hardships suffered by the urban poor to those who are farming the land.

      “The nuns give a sandwich to everyone: two slices of bread with lard, wrapped in newspaper. At least our farmers can eat from their gardens. Those who are leaving for the Saguenay and for Abitibi to homestead will have the greatest wealth there is – land to feed one’s family. Just like their predecessors did before them, the ones who listened to Curé Labelle¹ and settled the Pays-d’en-Haut.”²

      Duplessis is a friend of Ernest Laforce, the Canadian National Railway agent responsible for colonization who, like himself, is convinced that a return to the land would provide jobs for the unemployed, victims of the unbridled industrial development of the Twenties. Around this time Canon Lionel Groulx, whose idea of economic nationalism is quite narrow, is also appealing to “race,” that is, the French Canadians of Quebec. He reacts to the economic crisis by promoting a type of socio-economic nationalism. With six hundred dollars, impoverished Montrealers could rebuild their lives in the new territories that are opening up everywhere. Maurice finds himself singing the same tune. For his part, Father Albert Tessier, a friend and a powerful voice in his riding, convinces him to support a bona fide program of colonization at the Legislative Assembly:

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