Piau

by Bruce Murray

  I responded with disbelief. “But how is that possible? Every deep pool must be fed by a waterfall, and no spring could provide such great amounts of water.”

  “The fountain gathers its strength from within,” Grandmama assured me, “and its power only shows itself in the hundreds of waterfalls that fall from its still pool. Have you never heard the old saying ‘still waters run deep’? Remember, Piau, that the strength of your character, like that of the water, gathers itself from within, and you draw your power from it in times of trouble. My father told me this when I was a little girl, and this lesson has served me well throughout my life in Acadia.”

  I pondered this awhile. Over time I have come to see the true wisdom of her words.

  Grandmama and I had many other conversations over the next few months. Always curious about our family history, I inquired one day, “How was it that you came to marry an Englishman? There are those who have said that my grandfather Charles Melanson was an English spy, which is quite impossible, given that I am certain his brother, Uncle Pierre, spies for the French.”

  “And how would you know these things?” she declared, surprised.

  “I have witnessed Uncle passing documents to the French each fall on our arrival at Grand Pré.”

  “You cannot be certain of the contents of these documents.”

  “I have only come to this conclusion because of the manner in which they have been delivered and the veil of secrecy surrounding how they are received. The exchange always occurs out of the sight of people.” I deliberately withheld the details regarding the knowledge I already had of the contents of these documents out of respect for Uncle Pierre.

  “But not out of your sight. You are truly an observant young man, Piau.

  “Well, all I can tell you is that when my husband, Charles, was alive, whatever his dealings with the English may have been he kept them to himself. I always respected his privacy as you must do with your Uncle Pierre. He is a wise man and much respected by both the English and the French in Acadia.

  “And to answer your first question, many English settlers arrived when the English Crown took over Acadia in 1657. At that time, the new settlers fit in quite nicely with the French-speaking Acadians. And, of course, your great-grandfather, my father-in-law, Pierre Laverdure Senior, was raised in France but moved to England to avoid persecution because he was a French Protestant.”

  “Were they known as the Huguenots, Grandmama?”

  “Yes, your great-grandfather was a Huguenot and he continued to practise his religion throughout his life. When the English left Port Royal in 1667, he moved to Boston so he could continue to live amongst the Protestants of the colonies to the south. He never returned to Acadia. He, your great-grandmother Priscilla, and your great-uncle John remained in the English colonies.”

  “And grandfather and Uncle Pierre remained behind in Acadia.”

  “Yes, Piau, they both married French Acadians, adopted the Catholic religion, and raised their children here. Your grandfather Charles, my husband, also changed the family name to Melanson, which was the family name of his English mother.”

  Chapter 4

  As I grew older, I became fascinated by my brother Charles’s obsession with the sea and with shipbuilding. From the earliest days of our misfortune aboard the captured British ship we called home in 1707 and 1708, he had relished the science of ship construction. He was able to design and construct vessels of all kinds: simple fishing boats, small sailing vessels, and even large ships. He became a master mast-maker and his skills were often used when British ships sailed up the river from the sea, looking for a repair of their sails and hulls. As he approached adulthood, he insisted on being well paid for his efforts. He would later become famous for these marine skills that had been nurtured out of his own adversity. They would in time serve him well in a formidable act of revenge against those he considered to be our father’s murderers.

  I never had a deep understanding of building a boat, but I often became a second pair of hands when Charles was in need of them. I marvelled as he crafted the spine of the vessel from sturdy lengths of oak using the tools he had collected over the years from Uncle Pierre and from the British at the garrison. These often engaged him for repairs and to create new masts from the massive white pines we felled. Benjamin became the assistant’s assistant during the summers at Port Royal, and we mixed this work with occasional fishing along the river. While Benjamin and I enjoyed the fish we caught, the news and gossip that I was able to pick up during my time working with Charles by the harbour would prove to be of greater value.

  One day in early September of 1726 news arrived that a new lieutenant-governor was arriving at Port Royal. The word quickly spread throughout the Acadian communities and beyond. The Acadians knew Lawrence Armstrong from previous visits, and he was as unpopular among them as he was among the soldiers and officers at the fort. Armstrong had never endeared himself to Governor Philipps, who spent most of his time away from Acadia; in fact, Philipps complained to the Board of Trade at Westminster about Armstrong’s behaviour elsewhere in Acadia, forcing Armstrong to sail to London to defend himself more than once. Now that Armstrong had become acting lieutenant-governor, a position he was to hold for the next fourteen years, he turned his attention to the matter of the oath of allegiance. Refusal to swear the oath had been a long-standing problem in Acadia, but a compromise had always been reached. It was soon evident that he had chosen to take a hard line with those he considered obstinate.

  Not long after Armstrong took up residence at Annapolis, he began visiting the various communities in the district to survey the farms, livestock, community activities, and, much to my brother Charles’s consternation, the local shipyard. To say that the lieutenant-governor’s perusal of Charles’s work on a newly constructed chaloupe was an intrusion was to understate the anxiety we all felt by his sudden presence.

  As the lieutenant-governor looked on, we continued with our task silently. It was he who broke the silence.

  “Your reputation as a shipbuilder has reached as far as England, Monsieur Belliveau. I have some commissions I wish to discuss with you.”

  Charles purposefully gave Armstrong a blank stare, pretending not to understand what the lieutenant-governor was saying. We all were aware of the antipathy that lingered beneath the surface of that blank stare. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. I was the one who decided to respond to the lieutenant-governor, being the most fluent in English of all the Acadians present.

  “I speak on behalf of my brother, Excellency, that at a convenient time for him you may discuss the time, compensation, and design of any projects to be completed in future.”

  Taken aback by my forthrightness, the lieutenant-governor responded quickly and authoritatively: “Young man, I sense a certain impertinence in your tone. You will in future speak to your lieutenant-governor in a respectful manner. Furthermore, any discussion of commissions will be at my convenience, not yours.”

  Sensing that I had overstepped, I softened my response. “I meant no disrespect, Excellency. The abrupt tone of my English is explained by my lack of a true understanding of the language. My mother tongue is French.”

  Armstrong stood motionless, not knowing whether this young man of twenty was being sincere in his response or taking advantage of him.

  “We will talk!” Armstrong turned about-face and strutted away. Major Cosby, who attended the lieutenant-governor, followed him for several yards and then glanced back, giving us a knowing smile and an informal salute.

  Feeling we had achieved a minor victory over an oppressor, we quietly resumed our work.

  Chapter 5

  The month of September 1726 was one I remember as a time when fate began to manipulate our lives in ways we never imagined. Only a few days after our unsettling encounter with Lieutenant-Governor Armstrong, a vessel flying a French flag floated through the thick and impossi
ble mist like a ghost ship carrying no one but the dead. Eerily approaching us at the shipyard at Annapolis, at first it appeared to have not a living soul aboard. Looking back on that day, I realize that Benjamin, in watching that ship sail into our lives, was facing his own destiny.

  It was he who first noticed the tall, faceless apparition at the wheel of the ship. He became so mesmerized by the vision, he was not aware of the commotion surrounding him. Soldiers rushed to the shore with muskets pointing at the mysterious vessel. The lieutenant-governor waded into the water, pushing officers and troops aside. We waited breathlessly on shore as the tableau unfolded. To this day, I can clearly remember the two men facing one another for the first time: Armstrong and Mangeant.

  An unlikely alliance was about to be forged. In hindsight, an unholy one!

  Armstrong barked an order in the direction of the figure behind the helm, “All persons on board must show themselves unarmed on deck immediately or my soldiers will commence firing on your vessel.”

  Not completely certain his message was being understood by the captain of the ship, he called to me on the shore.

  “Young Belliveau, come here at once.”

  Running as fast as I could, I shouted: “Yes, Excellency. I am at your service.”

  “Did you hear my orders just now?”

  “Yes, Excellency. You were quite clear in your directions.”

  “Deliver them to the captain of the ship in French.”

  I nodded in agreement, and then translated his command into French, loud enough for all to hear. A quiet descended on the scene.

  The captain’s voice broke the silence. “I understood you the first time, Monsieur le Gouverneur.” There was only a hint of French in his accent but no sign of fear or deference.

  The captain spoke to his unseen compatriots below deck, but no one ashore heard his utterances or their reply. The small group who came up from below were a surprise to all watching.

  If anyone had witnessed this scene not knowing what had gone before, they would have believed it to be an almost farcical scenario. One hundred and fifty muskets directed at one tall, unarmed man, an elegant woman, and two small children, a boy and a girl. The only possible threat was from the first mate, who followed them on deck. His simple dress and lack of a weapon diffused any sense of menace he may have posed.

  The captain shouted to those on shore: “We come in peace. My family and I wish to seek sanctuary.”

  “You have no other crew aboard?” inquired Armstrong.

  “None, I assure you, Monsieur le Gouverneur.”

  Armstrong’s tone and demeanour relaxed and he seemed to be more intrigued than alarmed by his new visitors.

  “Come ashore then and we will talk.”

  On being given permission to disembark, the first mate activated the pulleys to lower the lifeboat into the water. A seat suspended by ropes appeared to accommodate the captain’s lady. She was lowered into the small vessel. The others descended a ladder after the swing was lifted.

  Once ashore, the captain and his wife and children engaged in the formalities of gentlemanly bows and curtseys.

  “Monsieur le Gouverneur, I am François St. Germain Mangeant, and this is my wife, Marguerite, and my children, Samuel and Louise. Jacques is my first mate.”

  “You say you are here seeking sanctuary. Why would a French gentleman and his family enter an English colony seeking protection? And protection from what?”

  “If you would permit me a private audience, Excellency, I will relate my story. There are too many sensitive details to describe here amidst so many.”

  “Sir, you must present yourself formally to my council and describe fully the circumstances that have brought you here. You may take up temporary residence in the priest’s quarters at the garrison. At present, he is absent from Annapolis.”

  “You are more than generous, monsieur.”

  The soldiers were instructed to disperse, and Armstrong personally led the visitors toward the fort, giving the impression he was about to entertain honoured guests.

  The oddity of this event did not escape us as we continued our tasks in the shipyard. Although we were not privy to Mangeant’s presentation to the council nor the telling of his story, the details would be revealed to us in good time. My great-uncle on my father’s side, Abraham Bourg, was an Acadian delegate on the Lieutenant-Governor’s Council and he would enlighten us.

  True to our prediction, Uncle Abraham began his visits to the Acadian homes throughout the Annapolis community to reveal the nature of Mangeant’s mysterious arrival at the colony. When he finally arrived at our home in Melanson Village, the fantastic story Uncle related was far more unusual than even we could have imagined. He spoke of how Mangeant, having immigrated to Acadia from Paris several years back, had arrived in Beaubassin, married one Marguerite Caissie, and then moved to Quebec, where he proceeded to amass a considerable fortune in the shipping industry. Apparently, Mangeant’s fleet grew to such a size that he became one of the wealthiest men in New France.

  The extraordinary details of the story were delivered with great ceremony by Uncle Abraham, who tended toward the histrionic.

  “Mangeant explained that on board one of his own ships, after being at sea somewhere close to the entrance to the River St. Laurent, his captain, one Joseph Alphonse Lestage of Quebec, did, and I quote, ‘most basely and heinously insult, affront, and provoke’ him, forcing him to attack and wound said captain. The captain’s wounds were so severe he died two days later. Evidence was submitted to the Admiralty Court at Quebec, where Mangeant was found guilty of murder. Shortly after, he escaped on one of his ships with his family and a first mate, sailing continuously until he reached Annapolis. He has made a formal request to settle in our colony. And the most astounding development is that, in the presence of the council, he declared he was prepared to swear the oath of allegiance to King George without qualification.

  “Could you trust such a man?”

  He paused for dramatic effect, and then he resumed. “Apparently so, for our lieutenant-governor not only accepted Mangeant’s story but declared that his actions against his captain were justified. Can you imagine? He believed every word of his story without question! Armstrong has assured his safety in Acadia, allowing him to settle here. I believe the lieutenant-governor was quite taken by the gentleman. Mangeant does have an exquisite carriage and impeccable manners.”

  My grandmother interrupted as expected. She had an opinion on most things.

  “The lieutenant-governor got the consent of all those present, without any dissent?”

  “Madame Melanson, the lieutenant-governor did not request our consent. Major Cosby seemed very suspicious of Mangeant, however, and not certain of his story or his motives for settling here, other than it was clear he was not able to flee to any French colony because of his murder conviction. Cosby cross-examined him relentlessly. I believe it was more to vex Armstrong than on account of any feelings he may have had against Mangeant.”

  “It is well known that the lieutenant-governor and Major Cosby share an enmity for one another,” I interjected, wanting to contribute to the conversation.

  “The fact is, Major Cosby is the brother-in-law of our ever-absent Governor Philipps, and Lieutenant-Governor Armstrong sees him as both a threat and a spy. He feels Cosby’s opposition at every turn. God bless Major Cosby.”

  “Amen,” we all chanted in unison.

  Chapter 6

  With the arrival of Mangeant, we experienced a change in the atmosphere of the town. Darkness seemed to descend. Those living in the lower or upper town readied themselves for the next reign of terror and, therefore, the next round of negotiations with the British rulers. With little warning, Lieutenant-Governor Armstrong insisted that an unconditional oath of allegiance to the newly crowned King George II be taken by every French-speaking subject in Acadia. He publ
icly admonished Ensign Wroth, who had been sent to Grand Pré and Pisiquit to administer the oath to the French inhabitants, for accepting a conditional oath. When the Acadian delegates at Annapolis requested that the clause allowing the French to maintain their neutrality in wartime be accepted by the ruling council, the lieutenant-governor jailed the lot of them, including poor Uncle Abraham. In such times of trouble, most Acadians distanced themselves from the British as best they could until the storm passed.

  This was easier for us at Melanson Village. We were at a distance of eight miles from Annapolis by road and four by river. My grandfather, Charles Melanson, had established our settlement close to the mouth of the Dauphin River, later known as the Annapolis River, in 1664. Our family farm faced directly across from Goat Island, known to us then as Île aux Chèvres. Grandmama always declared that the distance between us and the fort was a blessing from God. For the time being, she was correct.

  Benjamin came to stay with us during this period because René had purchased land in the lower town and was building a stone residence to rent out. He travelled each day by boat to and from Annapolis with my brother Charles to work on this structure.

  Now a young man, like me, Benjamin had retained the good looks he had possessed as a child. In truth, he was inordinately handsome. However, unlike many blessed with fine features, he had a profound inner toughness and a strong character. He also had a great commitment to fairness and justice, which would help define the rest of his short life.

  Having been raised at Grand Pré, Benjamin had little contact with the British and had little fear of those that governed his community from a distance. He had been influenced by his grandfather in all things and chose to live with him in the last ten years of Uncle Pierre’s life, thus insuring his inheritance of the ancestral home in Grand Pré. His father had remarried and had produced a household of new children. Benjamin was tutored in the ways of the English by a man born in Yorkshire, but he had learned from him that the British were not to be trusted. It was a matter of getting along, taking advantage when you could, and enjoying your freedom while it lasted.