Jeanne Dugas of Acadia (6 page)

Chapter 11

T
he officials at Louisbourg knew they would be facing war in the spring and summer of 1745, but they expected the attack to be led by British warships that would sail from England in the spring. They hoped that French warships would have arrived by then as well, but an early siege came from the New England colonies, led by William Pepperrell from the Colony of Massachusetts. The ships from New England first landed at Canceau, where they rebuilt the colonial fort's defences as they waited for the drift ice around Louisbourg to melt, where a group of small colonial warships was already blockading the fortress. In early May the siege began.

Louisbourg's fortifications were in a state of disrepair, and the garrison troops were insufficient in number and no doubt low in spirits. They fought nevertheless, unaware that the New Englanders had also moved artillery on land to attack from the rear.

A French man-of-war arrived at the end of May, bringing men and badly needed supplies, but after a fierce battle the ship was captured by the New England ships. Early in June the British fleet was at the harbour entrance. The combined land and sea attack, supported by the blockade of the harbour, lasted for almost seven weeks.

On June 26, 1745, the French initiated surrender. Under its terms, the military garrison were permitted to march out with the honours of war and the inhabitants were to be repatriated to France.

—

When the British and their colonial forces took possession of Louisbourg, Lieutenant John (Jean-Baptiste) Bradstreet was one of the first to make a grand entry. On his release from his imprisonment in Louisbourg the previous year, he had agreed not to bear arms against the French for a specific period of time. Given the freedom to roam about the fortress, Bradstreet had realized that it was vulnerable to attack by land from the rear. He broke his promise to the French and passed this intelligence on to Governor Shirley of the colony of Massachusetts, who used it effectively.

Lieutenant Bradstreet was rewarded with a promotion to the rank of Captain.

Chapter 12

D
espite the fact that the Dugas men had known in their hearts and minds that it was inevitable, the news of Louisbourg's defeat came as a shock in Grand-Pré. Jeanne was surprised at their reaction. Uncle Abraham and her brothers Charles and Abraham accepted it. Joseph was angry and bitter.

“The maudit
French couldn't even send a proper warship that could fight!” he said.

“I told you so!” Monsieur de la Tour responded.

Joseph was continuing his cabotage activities as much as possible and he was away for periods of time. Jeanne was more aware of Joseph's business dealings than other members of the family because she read his contracts for him. She also knew that his father-in-law was involved in some of her brother's activities, and, like her sister-in-law Marguerite, hoped
Le Maigre would not get Joseph involved in anything to do with the war.

Again, Jeanne saw a shift, a kind of realignment, in the family. Although there was relief that they had left Louisbourg in time and would not be facing deportation to France, they now had to make some difficult decisions. Could they stay in Grand-Pré? If not, where would they go? What choices did they have?

Charles, the eldest, assumed that they would all stay in Grand-Pré. “After all,” he said, “there is land here that belonged to our father and that you, Joseph and Abraham, can start farming for yourselves. You can do well.”

“Jeanne,” he added with a smile, “you can marry a nice Acadian boy here and then you will truly be Acadienne.” Jeanne's fierce desire to be Acadian when she was little had long since become a family joke.

Abraham was like Charles in temperament, and Jeanne could see him settling in Grand-Pré, but she knew this was not what Joseph wanted.

Uncle Abraham spoke up. “Joseph, I think I know how you feel, but consider your wife and children.”

“Uncle, I'm not about to go and do anything foolhardy,” Joseph said. “But I'm a caboteur
like my father before me and I want to continue my trade as long as I can. There must be money to be made in these circumstances. Besides, I think it's too soon to be making big decisions. I'd like to wait and see what happens. We could consider going to Île Saint-Jean. That would be easier for me. I know, I know,” he quickly added, “I am considering that my family is safe here for now.”

Uncle Abraham attempted to calm the discussion and said, “Well, let's wait and see. Joseph is right. We must wait and see what happens now. At least you are safe here.”

Jeanne knew that early in the spring Joseph had carried a message from Louis Du Pont Duchambon, the commandant at Louisbourg, to Paul Marin de la Malgue in Acadia to ask for help for the besieged town. After the fall of the fortress, William Pepperrell, the leader of the New England forces, had asked Joseph to encourage the Acadians in Nova Scotia to send supplies to Louisbourg for the occupying forces. He asked Jeanne to read the messages. He needed to be sure of the contents. When she had started to ask him why, he brusquely interrupted, “Don't ask, Jeanne.” She questioned his motives only in silence.

When Joseph returned from his next voyage, he reported that some Mi'kmaq from Île Royale had attacked his schooner at Tatamagouche and threatened him.

“The Mi'kmaq, Joseph, but why?” Jeanne was shocked. “They are our friends.”

“Yes, but they are not friendly with the British. I have to respect their wishes. We'll see what happens.”

Joseph explained to Jeanne that the Mi'kmaq were more loyal to France than many Acadians were. When word got to the Mi'kmaq some years earlier that the Acadians might take the full oath of allegiance to the British, it was clear that they would consider this a betrayal. In a way, they were right. The full oath would have put the Acadians in a position where they might have had to fight against the French and the Mi'kmaq. The earlier oath, one of neutrality, exempted the Acadians from fighting. Truth be known, only the French version of the oath specified this.

Jeanne was fairly certain that Joseph was not conducting any more business for the British at Île Royale. He kept up his activities, but on a much reduced scale. She was glad for his wife's sake, because she had noticed that Marguerite looked pinched and worried when Joseph was away.

—

There was no further discussion of the matter of whether they should stay in Grand-Pré. Now, when the men gathered for their frequent sessions around the table, they seemed to have reached an uneasy truce. The summer and fall were busy with planting and harvest, and work on the aboiteaux, the system of dykes that provided their rich farmland. All the men pitched in, including Joseph when he was home.

During the winter, Monsieur de la Tour fell ill. Maman spent all her time nursing him. The surgeon came, but was not able to determine what ailed him. “Has he had some tragic news? Is he sick at heart?” the surgeon asked.

Maman explained that they had fled Louisbourg and that her husband had found the recent events hard to accept.

“Ah, well, yes, we all feel that way,” the surgeon said.

In early May, when nature was just starting to turn Acadia into a green garden, Monsieur de la Tour passed away.

—

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

A
nother 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 you, Jeanne,” he said. “You should not have all these children to look after.”