Jeanne Dugas of Acadia (20 page)

Chapter 41

T
he last refugees to leave the Acadian prison sheds on Georges Island in late spring 1764 were a bedraggled and defeated group. Weary, half-starved, in rags, they silently boarded the shallops that came to take them off the island. Even the guards were silent. It was a shameful end for both captives and captors.

The shallops were headed for Chezzetcook, a small community of Acadian and Mi'kmaw families just a few leagues from Halifax. The Acadians there had been permitted to accompany Abbé Maillard to the Halifax area in 1760. They did some fishing and farming, supplying hay as well as lumber to Halifax. They welcomed the group of Acadians.
With pity
, Jeanne thought,
but then, do we not deserve it
?

Jeanne felt dizzy when they arrived. She didn't know if it was from physical weakness or the strangeness of being free again. Both Pierre and Marie looked at her with concern, for she was as pale as death.

“Madame,” she heard Pierre say to an older woman who came to them. “My wife has been ill and she is not strong.”

The woman clucked and took Jeanne in hand. “Come with me,” she said.

They were all in need of nourishment, rest and hope. These things came, but slowly. By the time winter arrived, most of the group had settled into the life of the community. Several had left Chezzetcook to seek refuge elsewhere and some had returned with news.

Jeanne's brother Joseph had been hiding in Chedabouctou, near Canceau, since his escape from Georges Island in 1762. Soon after his arrival there he had married, in a white ceremony, a woman named Louise Arseneau. Two years later they emigrated to the island of Miquelon. Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre, who left Georges Island in 1763 with his son Paul, followed Joseph and his family to Miquelon.

—

Jeanne, Pierre and Marie spent almost two years in Chezzetcook. It was good to be in an Acadian community again. As they regained their strength the men worked at whatever needed to be done and shared in the profits of their labour. Eventually Pierre and two other men started to build a
small schooner. Jeanne once again assisted at births and used her skills with herbs and plants to help the sick. During the winter months they learned to laugh and sing again. But old thoughts, like old habits, are hard to shed. The families argued over the merits of staying in Chezzetcook or leaving, and where they might live instead.

During the winter of 1766, they learned that the Robin company had established a fishing outport at Neireishak on Île Madame. Pierre believed there was a chance of earning a better living there, and it would put greater distance between them and the British authorities at Halifax. Jeanne simply wished to live as far away as possible from the prison sheds on Georges Island.

They left in the spring on their new schooner, with another couple, Joseph Richard dit Matinal and his wife Marie Marguerite Thibodeau, to settle at Petit-de-Grat on Île Madame. Joseph Richard was a second cousin of Jeanne, on her mother Marguerite Richard's side. He was worried about his two sisters, Rosalie and Anne. He believed they were somewhere in Cap Breton or perhaps at Chedabouctou, and he was anxious to find them.

—

The land at Petit-de-Grat was rocky and barren and not suitable for farming. Fog that came in off the ocean and enveloped the area in the spring seemed to stay forever. But the port had a fine harbour that was open year round and an abundant supply of fish. They found a couple of empty fishing huts that were very primitive, but luxurious compared to the prison sheds still fresh in Jeanne's mind.

Pierre Bois and Joseph Richard had to learn how to fish for cod commercially and managed to get hired on a large fishing boat that operated out of Petit-de-Grat for the Robin company. It was gruelling work. Pierre knew that if he had come here directly from the prison sheds, the work would have killed him. Jeanne realized he was going through a difficult time and she felt somehow closer to him. Perhaps with her brother Joseph now out of her life she felt herself more completely Pierre's wife – and she was pregnant.

In the summer, she gave birth to a son, Régis. She was touched when she saw the happiness on Pierre's face. She realized with a pang that she had been so wrapped up in her own sorrow over the loss of their three children that she had not really acknowledged his grief. They had not been able to talk about Pierrot, Angélique and Nono since their deaths.

One day when Régis was four or five months old and Pierre was playing with him and making him laugh, he turned to her. “Jeanne,” he said, “do you remember how much Pierrot and Nono made us laugh?”

“Yes,” she said, letting herself remember. And they were able to talk about the two little boys' and their antics. Jeanne cautiously let herself think that perhaps life could be good again.

—

After two seasons in Petit-de-Grat, Pierre decided they should go to Neireishak, where the Robin business was based. The climate and living conditions would be less harsh there and he could get work as a shipbuilder in the winter months. The Acadians did not have the right to buy property, but some simply settled and built on unused land. Jeanne was reminded of her mother's stories of how they had come to Port Toulouse and then moved on to Louisbourg.

Joseph Richard dit Matinal followed them to Neireishak. They found that more and more Acadians were now coming to Île Madame since they had received permission to do so after the end of years of war. They came from the Baie des Chaleurs, from Port Toulouse, from the prisons, from their hideouts in the forest, and from the places to which they had been deported. All had stories of great hardships. Some talked about their experiences at length, as if it helped to do so, while others preferred to suffer in silence.

Pierre Bois and Joseph Richard quickly found land where they could build simple habitations side by side. They decided to fish with their own schooner for the summer and sell their catch to the Robins. If the catch was good, it was more profitable this way. As anticipated, Pierre found work in shipbuilding in the winter months.

There was no chance for Acadians to become traders on Île Madame. Under the anti-Catholic penal laws, the Acadians could not trade, hold public office, vote, teach, attend school or own land. The British had encouraged men such as the brothers John and Charles Robin to immigrate to Nova Scotia from the Jersey Islands. Being Huguenots, they spoke French and were able to do business with the Acadians. They became prominent businessmen and traders in the region, with privileges and rights that the Acadians were denied. The Jersey men could also occupy the important government and military positions, and they exploited the situation for profit.

—

Life for Pierre, Jeanne and their children was easier at Neireishak. Their house was simple but snugly built against the elements, an improvement over the fishing shacks at Petit-de-Grat. The land not only looked gentler but could be tilled for planting. They had a proper kitchen garden and soon acquired a cow and some hens.

Three years after the arrival of Régis, Jeanne gave birth to a daughter, Geneviève. It was a difficult pregnancy – Jeanne was almost forty years old – but she was happy to have another child. Marie was sixteen when the new baby came, and Jeanne marvelled at how kind and caring Marie was toward her younger siblings, after the hardships she herself had suffered as a child.

In 1770, when Marie was barely eighteen, she met Pierre “Raymond” Poirier. He was almost ten years older than Marie and they knew very little about him or his family – except that he was Acadian. Jeanne was worried. She asked Pierre if they should perhaps at least ask Marie and Raymond to wait until they could have a proper wedding with a priest officiating.

“Jeanne, you know you're just being protective,” said Pierre. “Raymond seems to be a decent man and who knows when we'll have a priest attend to us again?”

But life was still so complicated and unsure, Jeanne thought.
What if Marie follows him to God only knows where and she is unhappy? We wouldn't even know
. She confronted her daughter. “Do you love him, Marie?” her mother asked. “This is not just something you think would be convenient? Or the right thing to do? Please tell me honestly,” she begged her daughter, remembering her own half-hearted decision to marry Pierre.

“Maman, I'm sure about Raymond and me. Truly. And I won't be leaving you to go somewhere else. Raymond wants to stay here. I do love him, Maman. And I know that I'm capable of loving only one man.”

Marie did not mean it unkindly, but Jeanne was a little taken aback. Marie's intelligence and instinct were a constant source of amazement to her mother. Sometimes Marie seemed older than Jeanne herself.

“Very well, Marie,” Jeanne said reluctantly and hugged her daughter. “But you do understand that it will have to be a white marriage for now.”

“Yes, Maman. Of course, I understand.” Marie's face shone with happiness, and she ran off to tell Raymond.

Ah, mon Dieu
, Jeanne prayed silently.
If you are not tired of hearing my pleas, keep my daughter safe
.

On a beautiful summer day, Marie and Raymond, as well as another couple, Augustin Deveau and Rosalie Richard, pledged their love before an elder of the Acadian community. Joseph Richard dit
Matinal had indeed found his sisters Rosalie and Anne on Île Madame. Anne had married some years before and now had five children; Rosalie had taken refuge with her sister until wedding Augustin Deveau. Traditionally, there was no celebration held for a “white marriage,” but seeing the glow of happiness on Marie's face Jeanne realized it was not necessary anyway.

—

The year after Marie's white marriage, the missionary Charles François Bailly came to Île Madame for a pastoral visit and gave his blessing to the white marriages and baptisms that had been held in the absence of a priest. It was a summer full of celebrations.

Two days after the rehabilitation of her marriage, Marie gave birth to a son, Laurent. He was baptized by Abbé Bailly on the same day. Jeanne's children Régis and Geneviève had their baptisms blessed as well. Régis was five years old and Geneviève two.

Abbé Bailly told all the newly blessed participants that they were now living in their “Holy Father's embrace.” Not for the first time Jeanne wondered if it made a difference, but she had to admit to herself that it did seem to give their lives structure – even if God often seemed to be indifferent to their needs.

—

The following five years were peaceful. Jeanne's life once again centred on her family. Marie and Raymond lived nearby, as did Joseph Richard dit Matinal. They made improvements to their simple home, enlarged their garden and acquired a few more farm animals.

Jeanne kept a promise she had made to herself. As soon as Régis was old enough, she started to teach him his alphabet and to read and write. She was happy to see that he was a good student. There had been no opportunity to teach Marie when she was young and they were moving from place to place in fear of their lives. Now that Marie was an adult with a family of her own, she was not interested. Jeanne was disappointed, but she understood.

And Jeanne continued her in role as a midwife. She always took the statuette of Sainte-Anne with her and now she also took her embroidered shawl to wrap the babies in when she baptized them. During her stay in the prison sheds, where the poor mothers often had barely a scrap of cloth to dress their babies, wrapping the babies in the shawl while she baptized them seemed to give the ritual some dignity. She wondered still if many of those children survived, though she found that her thoughts returned to Georges Island less and less. The loss of Pierrot, Nono and Angélique, of course, was a wound that would never heal. She included them in her prayers, but was slowly learning to live with it.

Jeanne Dugas was also accepting the loss of her beloved Acadia. Her hope now was to live in peace; that there would be no more wars and that their wandering life was over.

Chapter 42

N
o one could have foreseen the impact the American Revolutionary War would have on the small enclave of Acadians living on Île Madame. In September 1776, a first-lieutenant with the temporary rank of captain, John Paul Jones, brought his ship, the
Providence
, into the waters off Nova Scotia, looking for supplies and additional crew members. He first raided Canceau, and then went in pursuit of the fishing and transport ships at Neireishak and Petit-de-Grat. With the element of surprise, he was able to capture nine unarmed Jersey ships, as well as others belonging to Acadians and some of their crewmen. He plundered the Robin storehouses, taking a valuable stock of dried cod and a large stock of supplies, and then razed the entire establishment. This was devastating not only for the Robin company but also for the families who depended on it to earn a living.

It was inexplicable. Why would a ship from the British colonies attack Nova Scotia, itself now a British colony? To the Acadians, the behaviour was that of a pirate or a privateer rather than that of a military naval ship and there was no defence against it.

Fearing other assaults, John Robin retreated to Paspébiac on the Gaspé peninsula to join his brother Charles who had established a fishing outport there in the 1760s.

—

On top of all she had been through, coming at a time when she thought they had at last found a peaceful life, this was shattering for Jeanne. It was a repeat of all the fears she had experienced since the first fall of Louisbourg.

Pierre was devastated too. “I'm sorry,” he said as if it were his fault.

She just shook her head at him, her eyes filling with tears.

Before leaving, John Robin had encouraged the Acadians on Île Madame to follow him to Paspébiac to continue their fishing activities for his company there. Among a group of Acadians who dutifully followed him there a month or so later were Jeanne and Pierre and their children, and Marie and Raymond Poirier. Joseph Richard dit Matinal, Augustin Deveau and Joseph Gaudet and their families also followed.

—

The barachois of Paspébiac was not even a village ­– it was simply a fishing outport. Set in an isolated part of the Gaspé peninsula, it was backed by mountains and faced the sea. A triangular sandbar enclosing a lagoon, the barachois was ideal for the shallops used in a shore fishery and it provided an excellent beach for curing fish. Charles Robin had built a successful fishing commerce and there were now substantial buildings and storehouses. However, the housing for the fishermen and their families was no better than on Île Madame.

Two years earlier, John and Charles Robin had encouraged other Acadian exiles in France to return to North America and even carried them across the Atlantic on their ships. Charles brought about eighty of them to settle in Bonaventure and Tracadigache where some had relatives, and John had taken some to Cap Breton. Charles Robin also did business with a Mi'kmaw community at the mouth of the rivière Ristigouche.

The men who came from Île Madame were now old hands at fishing. God knows their wives and children were old hands at picking up stakes and sailing away to seek refuge, thought Jeanne. They felt safe here. She was determined to be strong, but silently prayed they would not remain in Paspébiac for the rest of their lives.

At least she was still useful. Her family needed her. Babies were born. People took sick. Few people came to visit from other communities, but sometimes Mi'kmaq came to visit with their families, causing Jeanne to think of Martin, always with a twinge of guilt. If only she could be sure that his death had not occurred because he was trying to stay in contact with her. Joseph had told her little and she had not dared press him for details. Perhaps she was afraid the answer would only cause her more grief.

They coped. They made their simple fishing shacks more comfortable. Régis and Geneviève grew, and now that Marie was married and making a home of her own, Jeanne was grateful for the two younger children. Before long Marie gave birth to another child, a girl they named Eulalie. Count your blessings, her Maman would have said. And Jeanne did.

—

Then, in June of 1778, barely two years after their arrival at Paspébiac, two heavily armed privateer ships arrived. They seized Charles Robin's ship, the
Hope,
laden with nearly two thousand quintals of dried cod, and sent the ship on to the British colonies. Another ship, also laden with dried cod, was captured a few weeks later. Charles Robin was taken hostage but he managed to escape and fled into the woods at night. He took flight and returned to his home on the island of Jersey. The American privateers continued to ravage the north shore of the Baie des Chaleurs, looting stores at the fishing outports and then burning the empty buildings.

Jeanne and Pierre, their families and others were forced to flee yet again. Somehow, somewhere there had always been a next place for them to go to, but Jeanne had to wonder if God was not being unmercifully stingy with the places He found for them. They were never able to do more than survive at each place and with just enough strength to enable them to move again. Now, they were headed for the Îles de la Madeleine.

“I'm sorry, Jeanne. I'm sure it's only temporary,” Pierre said. “The war in the British colonies won't go on forever. And then we'll come back home. I promise.”

—

The Îles de la Madeleine are a chain of twelve small islands, most of them connected by sandbars, situated in the golfe du Saint-Laurent, about twenty leagues from Île Royale and twenty-five leagues from Île Saint-Jean.

The Acadians from Paspébiac were sailing for Île Havre-Hébert at the southern tip of the chain, where Richard Gridley, a British colonial army officer and military engineer, had established a fishing outport in 1763, after the end of the Seven Years War. The islands had been used as seasonal fishing outports in previous years, but Gridley had established the first year-round community. He had persuaded, among others, several Acadian families to work for him at Havre-Hébert, fishing for cod and chasing after seals and walrus for their skins and oil during the winter months.

Not all the Acadians from Paspébiac went to the Îles de la Madeleine, but Jeanne and Pierre's group stayed together. Marie and Raymond sailed with her parents and others followed in several shallops.

The living conditions were much the same as at other outports and they were used to living this way. In fact, the weather at Havre-Hébert was more temperate than at Paspébiac, with milder winters and fresh summers. But the wind blew year round – stronger in the winter. When the island was locked in by ice in the winter months, they were truly isolated, with no other land in sight.

The men were used to the cod fishery, but the hunt for walruses and seals out on ice floes in the bitterly cold sea in winter and early spring was numbing. Dressing the walruses and seals was equally hard work. Pierre was the oldest man in the group and Jeanne was afraid it was too much for him, though he would not admit it.

In the spring of 1781, the first ship brought the news that the war between Britain and its North American colonies was coming to an end and that the colonies had won their independence.

Jeanne was determined they should return to Île Madame, or at least to Cap Breton. She shamelessly bullied Marie and Raymond to agree with her. But as the group argued the pros and cons of returning, Pierre was not at all convinced that they should go anywhere. Jeanne wondered if it was because he thought it safer to stay here or because he could not face another move.

Worried and frustrated, Jeanne told him, “I cannot stay silent and just wait to see what you men will decide.”

Pierre replied, perhaps only half jokingly, “Well, in any event, you have always had your own way.” She looked at him.

“For half our lives,” he said, “we followed your brother Joseph.” His answer and the truth of it shook her.

“Pierre, I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. But please, please, listen to me one more time. You did promise me that we would go back.” It was decided they would go.