THE ROMANCE OF THE FRENCH COUNTS AT WHITEWOOD,
ASSINIBOIA.
In the eighties and nineties the "French Counts" bulked quite
largely
in the imagination of the people of the Territories. There was something
fascinating in the idea of blue-blooded Frenchmen of the Old Historical
French Noblesse, living among us and being engaged in industrial pur-
suits the same as ordinary mortals. Not that they were all counts, but
that was the way, when spoken of generally, they were always described.
But there were Counts of the bluest blood of France among them. One
died in France comparatively recently as the Marquis de Richelieu, the
head of the existing branch of the Richelieu family, whose name is known
to all students of history by reason of the great Cardinal Richelieu, one
of the most prominent figures in the whole great, glittering galaxy of
French history. We asked the last remaining Frenchman whether it
was true that Count Joumillhac had succeeded to the Dukedom of Riche-
lieu in France. De Wolff shrugged his shoulders and replied "No! He
is only Markee" (Marquis).
And the mention of De Wolff reminds the writer of another little
incident in which De Wolff figures. It was after the assassination of
President Carnot. I was sitting on the Main Street of Whitewood, when
the very tall, slight figure of De Wolff dropped along. He pulled up for
a little chat. Having in mind the murder of President Carnot, I remem-
bered only that Carnot was a Frenchman. I forgot that, like the rest
of his compatriots, De Wolff was a Monarchist, to whom a republic and
republicanism were anathema. So in a sympathetic tone I said, "Very
bad thing, your President being killed like that." De Wolff gave me a
kind of stony look and said nothing for a second or two. Then he shrugged
his shoulders slightly, spreading out his hands, and said in an indifferent
tone, "Oh! we can get plenty of Presidents." The implication was ob-
vious. Presidents were of common clay; the material for their manu-
facture was boundless-but if it had been a King, then it might be a real
disaster. I changed the subject to cows or the weather or something.
My sympathy was so obviously misdirected. To him the President was
of the canaille. His removal was of no consequence. All that was requi-
site to fill his place was to pick another man out of the mob. But you
cannot manufacture Kings-that is, Kings with a kingly pedigree. They
must be born of a long and illustrious line. All this and more De Wolff
managed to convey to me by a shrug, a slight gesture of the hands, a
glance of the eyes, and a sentence of seven words. De Wolff was a clever,
able man, and had a fine knowledge of music. He rather electrified me
one day by saying that he was born in Paris, had lived in London and
New York and of the three great cities he preferred London. Naturally
I asked him "Why." He replied: "In Paris there is lots of business but
too much pleasure; in New York there is lots of pleasure but too much
business. London is just right-the pleasure and the business." By
which he meant that the English capital struck the happy mean.
The foregoing introducing one Count and one Commoner, will give
the reader a general idea of the personnel of this remarkable body of
French gentlemen, for they were one and all if not of noble blood, yet
"to the manner born." In this connection the following little incident
will be found remunerative. When the loose-jointed fabric and com-
munity built up by these French Legitimists, Orleanists (or whatever
branch of the old Bourbon family they supported) was in ruins, and some
had already returned to France, one of the Counts left behind him an
unpaid board bill, due to a Mrs. L_______.
Mrs. L. spoke to one of the remaining Counts, who was now keeping
a general store in Whitewood, about it. The Count replied: "Count J______
has little money, but he is a gentleman. You are a lady. He will pay you.
If you were a man perhaps not so; but you are a lady; he is a gentleman;
he will pay you." And in due course the money was sent from Paris, but
some other creditors of the male persuasion, failed to get their accounts-
not very heavy ones, similarly liquidated. It may be said here that the
"French Counts" from first to last, with their various undertakings,
circulated a great deal of money in the district, and contributed substan-
tially to the prosperity of the little town of Whitewood, in what was then
known as Eastern Assiniboia.
The activities of the Counts, and their untitled compatriots, were
carried on south of Whitewood, and extended as far south as the Moose
Mountain, some forty miles from the main line of the C. P. R. In the
Moose Mountain they ranched, and it was there that Mons. Janet started
his ill-fated Gruyere cheese factory. The farming operations, including
the cultivation for a time of the chicory plant and sugar beet, were carried
on in the vicinity of the Pipestone River or Creek, just as you choose to
call it. It is a most attractive lay of country, largely park land-that is
prairie interspersed with groves of light woodland-but there are gen-
erous stretches here and there of the open prairie, offering no resistance
to the kindly encroachment of the plow. The Pipestone Valley is, broadly
speaking, like a younger sister of the far-famed Qu'Appelle. There was
hay and pasture in the bottom, the banks and benches in places were well
wooded. The Frenchmen certainly showed good judgment in their choice
when they pitched upon the Pipestone and Moose Mountain with White-
wood, on the C. P. R. main line, as their market town. The original am-
bition of the Frenchmen was to secure practically the whole country
south of Whitewood, and run a light railway through it. Had more hard-
headed, practical business knowledge been at the back of their undertak-
ings the ambition might have been realised. As it was they shared the
failure which seemed to attend all large-scale enterprises in those days-
days when some of the seasons were disastrous, and when in the best of
at years prices were generally not greatly above the cost of production.
Count Joumillhac had a very delightful location on the north bank of
the Pipestone. The large frame residence was flanked by tall silvery
poplars and beneath it wound the beautiful Valley of the Pipe. Close
by, on the other side of the road-allowance, was a settler of a very differ-
ent type-in fact of so different a type that it is hardly possible to con-
ceive of one more marked. This was Charles Larry, a tall, spare, Roman-
faced Yankee, from New Hampshire. Not far along the bend was Philip
Curry's place, overlooking the valley. Philip was well-named for, although
a son of the Canadian manse, he was a lover of horses and at one time
owned more horses than any man in Eastern Assiniboia. West of Count
Joumillhac was Count De Langle's fine place. Count De Langle at one
time specialised in horse-raising. When he quit he offered his fine house
and buildings and half-section of beautiful land to the writer for eight
hundred dollars. At that price it went begging for a long time. This
will show what land values were in the earlier days of the Territories.
Other Frenchmen were in the vicinity. In the valley itself, a mile or so
but from Joumillhac's, was the Rolandrie ranch, and this large holding was
always the centre of interest and influence. It was originally held by a
Dr. Meyer, an able and cultured German or Hollander, who sold it out to
the new comers. The residence of Rolandrie was a long bungalow build-
ing with somewhat extensive buildings. Horses, rather than cows, were
the feature of Rolandrie. Here lived the Count and Countess Roffignac.
Bibliography follows:
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