—
The news from Île Royale in the spring was discouraging. Louisbourg was being manned by a troop of two thousand New Englanders. They had expected to go home after the fighting was over, but had been forced to remain for a year, until British regulars could be sent to relieve them. The New Englanders were expected to repair and rebuild the damaged fortifications, but in the harsh climate and the poor living conditions, many of them had fallen ill. More than a thousand of them died during that first winter.
In mid-summer, Maman herself took sick and was moved to Uncle Abraham’s home so that Jeanne could care for her. She had pains in her abdomen and none of the herbs or potions they tried could help. Despite the encouragement her children tried to give her, Maman seemed to have accepted that her time to die had come. Jeanne spent long hours at her bedside. As long as Maman wanted to talk, Jeanne encouraged her to tell stories about her old life in Acadia.
“It broke my heart,” she said, “when my three little girls died in Port Toulouse and then baby Étienne in Louisbourg. And now Angélique is lost to us. I hope you will not lose any children, my little Jeanne, but if it happens remember that it is in the hands of le bon Dieu. And you must go on.”
“Yes, Maman. You must stop worrying about us,” Jeanne chided.
“Ah, Jeanne, that is what mothers do. We believed, your father and I, that we had prepared the way for a good life for all of you. I know that you are all very capable, but you have no control over the events taking place now. And only God knows how all this will end – if even He knows. I believe that Charles and Abraham will be reasonable men and accept whatever comes their way. Joseph is the one likely to take risks, and it worries me greatly.” She smiled. “You know, he is the one most like your father. I know you are close to him, Jeanne. Will you try to protect him?”
“Yes, of course, Maman. I’ll do all I can.”
“Ah, my child. I have no right to ask that of you. You have your own life to live. You are becoming a lovely woman, Jeanne. To think that it was only two years ago, when you surprised Monsieur de la Tour and me by asking for a French-style gown, I could see you settling down as a proper gentlewoman in Louisbourg.”
“It’s all right, Maman. I believe I’m getting my wish – to be a real Acadian.” Jeanne smiled in turn. “And I promise I’ll help Joseph all I can, Maman. I worry about him too.”
In early September, Maman lost consciousness and a week later she quietly slipped away. They buried her beside Monsieur de la Tour, not far from Angélique’s resting place in the Saint-Charles-des-Mines cemetery.
Chapter 13
Another winter passed. The spring of 1747 brought no definite news. The war over the Austrian Succession that had brought about the defeat of Louisbourg was still being fought in Europe. An expedition launched by the French to recapture Louisbourg one year after its defeat had failed, due to storms, disease and attacks by the British navy before the French ships had even reached Île Royale. But this had not totally crushed the hope held by Acadians like Joseph, his father-in-law Le Maigre and his nephew Duvivier that France might yet defeat her enemy. The reports on the progress of the war were now ambiguous enough to leave the outcome uncertain.
The deaths of Maman and Monsieur de la Tour had saddened the families, but it had also brought them closer together. The de la Tour children, Marie and Louise, and the twins, Charlotte and Anne, were now firmly ensconced with Charles’s family. There was less talk of leaving Grand-Pré, but Jeanne knew that the question still preoccupied Joseph.
In the spring, Joseph and Marguerite welcomed twins Joseph fils and Marie. This caused great excitement. The birth was a difficult one, and for a while they feared for Marguerite’s life, but she survived. Because she was very weak for some months after, many hands cared for the new babies.
—
The spring of 1748 brought more of the same news about the war, but with it came a rumour that an end to hostilities was expected soon. Summer brought news that fighting had ceased in Europe and negotiations for a treaty were underway. The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle was signed in October 1748, too late for the news to arrive in Grand-Pré before winter. Although there were plenty of rumours, no one knew for sure what lay in store.
The event of the year for the Dugas was the marriage of Abraham to Marguerite Leblanc (no relation to Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre). Abraham had decided to cast his lot with his brother Charles and settle in Grand-Pré, deciding to start his own farm and raise his family there. He would also undertake some cabotage activities on a small scale.
—
In the spring of 1749, the colonies learned that Île Royale had been returned to France under the terms of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, in exchange for the return of Madras, Spain, to Britain and the withdrawal of French troops from the Low Countries of Europe. The decision to return Louisbourg to France met with strong opposition in Britain and even stronger protests from the New England colonies, who felt that the defeat of Louisbourg in 1745 had been accomplished with the blood and sweat of their men. Both sides knew that the new treaty would not bring a permanent settlement between Britain and France. In fact, it was more a truce than a treaty.
Joseph was cautiously pleased at the news, but disgusted at what he saw as the treatment of Île Royale as a pawn in a game. “De la Tour was right,” he grumbled, “we mean nothing to the mother countries. It’s too bad he’s not here to say I told you so!”
Nevertheless, Joseph started to make plans to return to Louisbourg and this caused great concern for the family. It was as if all the arguments they had stifled while events unfolded now came bubbling out.
Their uncle Abraham begged for caution. “You don’t know what you’re going to find there,” he said. “When is Louisbourg to be turned over? You don’t want to arrive there before the French have secured it. You just don’t know what you’ll find.”
“No, Uncle. But I won’t know unless I go.”
Charles sided with Uncle Abraham and could not understand Joseph’s need to leave a secure place for an unknown and risky adventure. Their brother Abraham had made his decision and he intended to stay in Grand-Pré.
Jeanne asked, “Joseph, what about Marguerite and the children?” Joseph’s wife was heavy with child again. He could go without her, but what if he did not come back?
“I know, Jeanne,” Joseph said. “I’m making plans, but I’m not going right away.”
Three weeks later, Marguerite gave birth to a baby girl they named Françoise. As with the birth of the twins, Marguerite’s recovery was even slower this time. They expected her to recover as she had before, but about a month after giving birth, Marguerite died.
It was a blow to all the family. Joseph withdrew into himself. Jeanne tried to speak to him, but he brusquely turned her away. When he saw tears in her eyes, he relented.
“I’m sorry, Jeanne. You must know I blame myself for Marguerite’s death. I know I did not cause it directly, but I could have been a better husband and father. I was away too often and too long. My Marguerite was so good and kind. What will I do without her?”
“Joseph, it’s for you to decide. You know everyone here will help you as much as we can. What will you do? Are you going to go to Louisbourg and leave your children here?” This seemed to pierce Joseph’s preoccupation with his grief. He gave Jeanne a stricken look, then turned and walked away.
Several weeks later, when it was clear that the new baby Françoise was thriving, Joseph told Jeanne that he would make a voyage to Louisbourg in the summer, to see how things were there, and then he would decide what to do. He also told Jeanne that he had been approached by a niece, Marie Braud, who offered her services to help with the children. Marie had been born with a club foot and then orphaned when she was only five years old. Joseph felt that hers was a difficult life and that she would be of great help if taken in.
“It would be too much for y
ou, Jeanne,” he said. “You should not have all these children to look after.”
Chapter 14
In the summer of 1749, Joseph repaired his schooner, the Marie-Josèphe, the one the Mi’kmaq had attacked in Tatamagouche, and he sailed for Île Royale. At Louisbourg, he found that his home on rue Royalle was badly damaged and uninhabitable. It had been requisitioned as part of the British colonial governor’s quarters during the New England occupation and later used as a storehouse. Understandably, conditions in Louisbourg were still unsettled.
On his way back to Grand-Pré, Joseph stopped at Port Toulouse to check on the land his father had left to the family.
He knew that after the defeat of Louisbourg in 1745, the New England forces had attacked Port Toulouse and the surrounding area, burning down the town, the fort and the brickworks. They even desecrated a Mi’kmaw burial ground. Many of the settlers had left, and any who remained were caught and killed or taken prisoner and deported.
Joseph found that most of the land his father had cleared nearly forty years ago was again covered with fir trees – the two dwellings mainly in ruins. But he discovered that other Acadians were returning to the area, and that Louisbourg was again sending some French troops there. This was encouraging. It did not lift his spirits, but he decided it would be a safer place to settle than Louisbourg.
When he announced his intention to move to Port Toulouse and to take his children with him, his brothers and his uncle Abraham tried to disuade him. But Joseph would not be swayed. He asked Marie Braud if she would go with them and she agreed.
At Joseph’s announcement the family turned their eyes on Jeanne. They knew she was very attached to her brother and his children.
Before she could speak, Joseph said, “Jeanne, you can make a good life for yourself here in Grand-Pré. You must stay.”
She knew he was sincere, and of course everyone else joined in to agree with him. But she was very unsettled by the situation. “I don’t know,” she said and frowned. “I have to think about it.” Then she walked out of the room.
She had a favourite place on Uncle Abraham’s farm where she liked to go when she had to think about something important. It was between the house and the barn, in a slight hollow, where someone had placed a bench beside a willow tree. She went there now, just to sit and think. She had never before had to make such an important decision for herself.
—
Since losing their father, Jeanne’s brother Joseph had been the anchor in her life, perhaps even more so since Maman had died. And she had promised Maman that she would try to protect him. Now she wondered exactly what Maman had meant. Jeanne knew she could stay in Grand-Pré and that she would find a suitable husband here, but was this what she wanted? Sometimes she wondered if perhaps she was a kindred soul to Joseph and like him not afraid to take risks.
The following day she announced that she would go with Joseph, and she made it clear that she was going as much for herself as for Joseph and his children. Marie Braud looked stricken for a moment, but Jeanne said with a smile, “No, Marie, you are to come too. I’m sure there will plenty to keep us both busy.” When Joseph opened his mouth to protest, Jeanne told him, “No, my mind is made up and as you know I am a truly stubborn Acadienne.” The rest of the family knew it was pointless to argue with her.
—
They sailed for Port Toulouse in mid-September, Joseph, his five children – all under eight years of age – and Jeanne and Marie Braud. As their schooner set sail, all of them were on deck to wave good-bye to their relatives – some of them crying. Jeanne was afraid but also strangely elated. She was embarking on an adventure on the sea she loved.
Their arrival at Port Toulouse was not encouraging. Jeanne had never been there, but when she saw the two dilapidated habitations on her father’s property and felt the dampness in the air, she knew how her mother must have felt when she had arrived there many years before. They quickly set to work to repair the houses and clear some ground.
Jeanne and Marie made the best of it, but it was clear that Joseph was not happy. He was bitter at France’s lack of support for its colony during the siege of Louisbourg and at its cavalier attitude in using Île Royale as a mere pawn in the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. Would the mother country treat its colony any better now?
In October, to Jeanne’s dismay, Joseph’s father-in-law Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre arrived in Port Toulouse. For all his cabotage activities before and during the war, he was now penniless.
In fact, his activities on behalf of the French in 1745 had led to his capture and imprisonment by the British. He had apparently been held in chains in a terrible dungeon for six months, and his attempts to engage in business activities after his release from prison had all failed miserably. The man once considered the wealthiest man in Acadia now accepted the stipend the French crown was still offering to Acadians to settle on Île Royale.
Now in his fifties, Joseph Leblanc arrived with his wife, Anne Bourg; their three youngest children, Alexandre, Paul and Anne; his eighty-one-year-old father-in-law; a young nephew, Joseph; and a niece, Marie-Josée Alain. As well as being very large in his person, everything about Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre seemed larger than life. He was expansive and disruptive. Or so it seemed to Jeanne.
Joseph gave his father-in-law one of the habitations on the property for his use, and Joseph’s family began to share with the Leblancs the provisions they had brought with them from Grand-Pré. Jeanne said nothing, but of course Joseph knew how she felt. One day he said, “Well, what do you expect me to do?” Jeanne just shrugged.
There was not much time for petty grievances. The necessities of life were not as abundant here as in Grand-Pré. They managed to get through the winter, using the stock of provisions they had brought with them, supplemented by hunting small animals such as hare, partridge and woodcock. In the spring, they planted a kitchen garden and started to clear more land. Eventually, Joseph would have two arpents planted with turnips he hoped to sell – but crops were meagre. In the summer, fish was plentiful in both the lakes and the sea, and they managed to salt enough codfish for their own use. Their farm animals grew to include an ox, two cows, two pigs and twelve chickens.
The children adapted themselves, as children do. Jeanne and Marie worked hard and Joseph did his best to be a good father. But in the evening when the children were asleep, he became silent and brooding. Jeanne knew that her brother was preoccupied with the political situation and frustrated with his life as a farmer at Port Toulouse. He had done little coastal trading since the unpleasant incident at Tatamagouche when the Mi’kmaq had attacked his boat and menaced him. Jeanne wondered how long he would go on this way.
The Mi’kmaq had left their summer encampment near Port Toulouse soon after the Dugas arrived in the fall, so Joseph had not had much contact with them. When they returned in the spring, they brought with them one of the former scouts at Louisbourg, Jean Sauvage. Joseph was very happy to see him again, not only for news but also because they were friends in the years leading up to the defeat of the fortress. Jean Sauvage had heard of Joseph’s encounter with the angry Mi’kmaq at Tatamagouche, but now told him not to worry about it. He also reported that life was only slowly returning to normal for the French at Louisbourg and he warned that there was still a fair amount of activity by British privateers around Île Royale. He promised to keep Joseph informed of any events around the island.
There were incidents with British privateers. The summer after their return, Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre was captured by privateers and held prisoner for eight days. The British privateers released him and his several companions unharmed, but they lost the shallop they were travelling in and all the goods it contained.
Jeanne was aware of the long discussions that Joseph and his father-in-law had that sometimes verged on bitter arguments. Le Maigre, like Joseph, was not well suited to the life of a farmer. He was unable to ac
quire land of his own at Port Toulouse, although he managed to acquire twenty-five cows and ten chickens during the three years he received his stipend from the crown.
The settlers now in Port Toulouse were Acadians returning to their homes or displaced from other areas. One family they met, that of Pierre Bois and his wife Marie Coste, were originally from Ardoise in Nova Scotia. They had first settled in Port Toulouse decades ago, and they remembered Joseph Dugas père and his wife Marguerite Richard. Jeanne was touched to meet someone who had known her parents and she became friends with the family.
—
The first two years in Port Toulouse went by quickly, preoccupied as they all were with adjusting to living in reduced circumstances. Once in a while, if she had a quiet moment, Jeanne would take her blue gown out of its bundle and run her hands over the soft silk. Then she would unwrap the portrait the Louisbourg artist had painted of her. She marvelled at how innocent she looked, her face unblemished, her hands soft. Now, only a few years later, her complexion was dark from exposure to the sun as she worked in the garden and the barnyard, and her hands were red and roughened. I am barely twenty years old, she thought, but soon I will look like an old woman.
One day Joseph caught her by surprise as she was looking at the portrait. She must have looked sad. He said, “Jeanne, you’re just as beautiful now.”
She shook her head and could not help the tear that escaped and ran down her cheek. “I’m all right, Joseph,” she said. He looked stricken.
“Jeanne, you can go back to Grand-Pré, you know,” he said quietly. “You’ve done so much for us, but we can manage now. I’ll take you back.” But Jeanne knew that sailing to Grand-Pré at this time was dangerous, especially for Joseph. He and his father-in-law were known to be French supporters. The British authorities in Acadia did not trust Acadians who supported the French cause, any more than did the Mi’kmaq.
Jeanne Dugas of Acadia Page 6