History In Front Of us

Eileen Manion

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Copyright 2020 Eileen Manion

“Public art claiming to represent
our collective memory is just as often
a work of historical erasure and political manipulation.”
What Do We Want History to Do to Us?
Zadie Smith

In American news, we hear about debates over a Virginia statue of Robert E. Lee. People in Richmond toppled Confederate general Williams Carter Wickham’s statue and threw one of Columbus into a lake. In Boston, Columbus was decapitated.

During Black Lives Matter protests in England, a Bristol statue of 17th century slave trader Edward Colston was dumped into the harbor.

In Antwerp, a statue of King Leopold II, who brutalized Africans in the Congo, was taken down and Dubliners removed Nelson’s column.

While many applaud the tearing down of these memorials, others argue they should be retained since they represent “history.” But history is inevitably contentious and the creation of heroes should always provoke questioning.

Here in Montreal, Parc Lafontaine, our third largest park , is a great place to picnic, watch ducks on the pond. Or to ice skate in winter.

Recently, however, as a tourist at home during the pandemic, I’ve been looking at the park from a different perspective, asking questions about whom we memorialize and how we present historic figures in public art.

I used to think that the park was called “Lafontaine” because it had a large fountain in the north portion of the pond. But in fact it derives its name from Sir Louis-Hippolyte La Fontaine (1807–1864), a 19th century politician who was the first French premier of the United Province of Canada and died three years before Confederation.

Although he campaigned for the restoration of French as an official language, he represents, not rebellion, but gradual reform and compromise in dealing with the British; for his efforts he was named a baronet by Queen Victoria.

All the monuments in the park have some relation to Quebec history. In addition to the one of La Fontaine himself placed there in 1930, there are four other statues in the park: a 1990 obelisk representing Charles de Gaulle, famous here for his 1967 speech in which he said “Vive le Quebec libre”; a statue of Felix Leclerc, a 20th century Quebec singer/ songwriter; a memorial to French Canadian soldiers who fought in World War I, and a statue of Dollard des Ormeaux.

The most striking of the five is that is of Adam Dollard des Ormeax (1635–1660) created by Alfred Laliberte (1877–1953), a renowned Quebec national sculptor, and installed in the northwest corner of the park in 1920.

Although Dollard des Ormeaux was only 23 years old on arrival in Quebec, he was made garrison commander of Fort Ville Marie, which grew into the city of Montreal.

Two years later, he led an expedition of 17 French soldiers, 40 Huron, and 4 Algonquin fighters up the Ottawa River in an attack on several hundred Iroquois. They were outnumbered, defeated, and wiped out at the Battle of Long Sault (1660).

The La Fontaine Park monument represents Dollard looking purposeful, determined, gazing off into a future in which his ignominious defeat will be turned into a bizarre kind of victory. Above him we see the spirit of France, resembling an angel, guiding him, ready to rapture him off to heaven; at his feet lies a dying or dead comrade.

The names of the French soldiers who died are engraved in the stone base along with those of the Huron and Algonquin chiefs, but not the other warriors who were killed.

In early Catholic historical accounts, Dollard’s reckless attack, which had been approved by the governor of Montreal, Paul Chomedy de Maisonneuve, was mythologized as a battle between Christianity and barbarism, a proactive effort to protect Fort Ville Marie from Iroquois invasion.

Dollard’s death morphed into martyrdom as he was also recruited in the 19th century to emphasize the importance of French language and culture in European settlement of North America.

Inevitably, some historians have raised questions about this interpretation which turns Dollard into a hero. Some have suggested he was in debt and more interested in stealing furs from the Iroquois than protecting Fort Ville Marie, which was not subsequently attacked by the victorious Iroquois. Others have criticized the negative portrayal of indigenous peoples in early accounts.

Despite these questions, like a zombie, Dollard comes back to life from time to time to bolster nationalistic pride. In the 1960s, Victoria Day, a mid-May holiday in Canada, was unofficially called Fete de Dollard. Although its official Quebec name was changed in 2003 to Journee des Patriotes, some still refer to it as Jour de Dollard.

All these shifts and revaluations don’t affect the solidity of the monument which stands at one of the gateways to the park, representing a view of history which may be questioned, but is still very much present in our midst, for the new plaque explaining who the statue represents uncritically repeats the standard view of Dollard as savior of embattled Ville Marie.

In times of confusion or uncertainty like the present with threats from a partially understood virus and consequent economic catastrophe, we look for heroes in the past or the present, to reassure us about our identity and importance.

This can be dangerous if we make the wrong choices.

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