The Trousseau (4 page)

‘
JACQUES
, you must put your tools away early this afternoon.' Gerard Duphly, the old head gardener of the Port-de-France Government Garden, approached Jacques who was bent over, working on one of the rose beds.

‘Madame LeBec, the patroness of our little school, has come to me with a request. We now have a new teacher for the government children and this young woman needs some help with her vegetable garden.'

‘Ah, some time ago I looked over the garden at the back of the school house and yes, it's in a very poor state,' Jacques replied.

‘You can continue with these roses tomorrow morning. Take a few minutes for your lunch then make your way to the schoolhouse to see what we can do for the new teacher.'

Jacques slowly ate his piece of bread while enjoying a drink of fresh water. From the time he was a young child he had always loved plants. He knew intuitively how to care for them, make then grow tall and strong while planting them in attractive arrangements. When he became twelve years old, his uncle took him to the Bagatelle Park, to enrol him in its horticultural school. Here he also learned to read and write well, skills that were important for every aspiring gardener. His thoughts roamed back to his life in Paris, three years ago, where at age seventeen he was completing his junior apprenticeship in the Gardens of Napoleon III. How he loved his work there in the Bagatelle. He and Louis were their two most talented students. When the word had gone out that one of the two of them could be chosen as the head apprentice for the Tuileries Gardens, Jacques heard whisperings that he was the favoured candidate.

‘So you hope that you will be chosen for the Tuileries Gardens?' Louis spoke to him with his sneering smile.

‘It's up to another to make that choice,' replied Jacques.

‘We'll see about that,' Louis smirked and pushed Jacques aside with his shoulder as he passed him.

Later that afternoon when Jacques brought his discarded clippings to the compost heap he noticed four onions on the top of the pile. Who would leave good onions like these on a compost heap? They are too fresh to be thrown away, Jacques thought. I'll put them in my pocket and take them to my Aunt Cecine. She can make an onion soup. Jacques put away his tools and prepared to leave, but when he reached the garden gate two gendarmes approached him.

‘Stop right where you are, young man,' they called out harshly. ‘It has been reported to us that you are stealing food from the vegetable garden plots. Don't you know the food grown there is only for the Emperor's household?'

‘I have never stolen anything from the garden.'

‘We heard that you have something in your pockets. Empty them out, right now.' Jacques removed the four onions and spoke to the gendarmes. ‘These were left on the compost heap so I took them. They are not from the Emperor's vegetable garden.'

‘We have a witness to the fact that you stole these onions. Your theft was reported to us so you must come with us now. A judge will decide if you are innocent or guilty.'

As Jacques was led away he saw Louis loitering by the gate. ‘Farewell, Jacques. It looks like I'll be going to the Tuilleries now instead of you.' So it was Louis who had planned this terrible event. What a fool he had been to take the onions. Overwhelmed by a sudden sense of despair, Jacques realized that this day would be a fateful one that could change his life forever.

Early the following morning Jacques was taken from the cell he had shared the previous night with several men. ‘The judge will see you now, and you will receive your sentence.' As Jacques entered a nearby room he faced a distinguished looking man, seated behind a table and flanked by armed guards. ‘Young man, it has been reported to me that you were a horticultural apprentice when you stole four onions from Emperor Napoleon's vegetable garden. You were seen by a witness. Have you anything to say for yourself?'

‘Monsieur le Judge, yes, I am an apprentice but I did not steal the onions from a garden. I took them from a waste heap where they had been left.'

Jacques had no way of knowing that weeks earlier this very judge was shown a letter from Grande Terre. Its contents requested that any convicts with horticultural skills be sent urgently to the island, rather than be left in a Parisian prison. There before him stood his chance to assist the new colony.

‘In keeping with the law I must now inform you that you will be transported to Grande Terre to complete what should be a sentence of seven years of labour. However, because your offence was a minor one, I will reduce this to four years – one year for each onion that you removed from the garden. A convict ship sails in a few days and you will be aboard it. When your sentence has been completed you may return to France or stay on Grande Terre, where you will be given a parcel of land and your full freedom. Please escort this man away and bring in the next.'

Several mornings later Jacques' Uncle Leon and his weeping Aunt Cecine could only catch a glimpse of him as he boarded the ship, chained to a dozen other men. The seven month voyage was expected to be a hell on earth but Jacques was determined to keep up his spirits and try to stay as healthy as he could. At first he remained chained in a dark space below the deck. After two weeks his group was brought up on deck and his chains were removed. At last he could breathe fresh air and enjoy the sunshine. To his surprise he was placed under guard near the poop deck as other groups were brought up for fresh air. Occasionally another prisoner was unchained and sent to the space where Jacques was being held. When all had been accounted for and returned to the hold, Jacques and three other prisoners were escorted to a different space. This was still below deck but away from the general group of prisoners, closer to an open barred window and in a place to accommodate them standing, if they wished. The four men spoke together about this change of fortune. Jacques discovered that one of them had studied medicine, another was a civil engineer and the third, an apprentice accountant. The other three were pleased to learn that Jacques had been a horticultural apprentice at the Bagatelle Gardens. It was mentioned that they had probably been spared from working in the nickel mines, as their specialized training could be used in the settlement. There were also more opportunities for some exercise above deck and better rations. The voyage was still very difficult but at least it was made bearable by these new arrangements. The time seemed to pass quickly too as the men could converse with each other and support their moments of loneliness and pain.

At last the ship reached Port-de-France and all were allowed to disembark. As each man's name was called, he was directed to a large group of convicts. When Jacques stepped forward he was met by an elderly man and together they made their way to a waiting cart.

‘I am Gerard Duphly, head gardener of the Government Garden. You will serve your four years as my assistant. There is a small room behind the garden supply shed where you may sleep. If you are hard-working and cooperative, you will be allowed to make full use of your horticultural talents here. Can you do this?' Duphly looked carefully at Jacques. For some reason he immediately liked this tall, thin young man who spoke quietly and looked him straight in the eye when he answered.

‘Yes, I am relieved that I was not sent to hard labour in the nickel mines. I will assist you in every way I can.'

‘You will be moving among the free settlers and government administrators. You may not socialize with them in any way and must keep your place at all times. I will teach you what I can, but you have come with very high recommendations from the Bagatelle. It's a pity for you that you took the onions, but a blessing for me that you are now in Grande Terre. Work hard and your four years will pass quickly. Who knows, you may even choose to stay on here.'

‘I have heard all you have said and I accept your advice. Already I feel the warmth and the open sky of this lovely place beginning to heal my soul. If I can work in a garden I can survive anything.'

Jacques put out his hand and Gerard Duphly took it in his. The two men knew instinctively they could trust one another.

‘Enough of this wandering mind,' Jacques said aloud. His lunch was now finished, so he gathered a note book and pencil and made his way to the Government School. ‘Let's see what I can do for the new teacher.'

‘Mademoiselle, I am the gardener, here to assist you.'

‘Please call me Mademoiselle Clotilde. I am looking forward to your help with this poor little garden.'

Jacques paced through the garden making notes as he walked. Moments later he called Clotilde over to join him and soon they were seated at her table.

‘You have a lovely old tree in that corner and a space under it for your table and benches. Why not move your table over there, to give you shade during the summer. I have a number of old paving stones and I could make a pathway from your back door to the table. You could work on your garden beds along the pathway and it would also look natural and attractive. I've sketched the locations of different vegetable beds where you can easily grow tomatoes, cabbages, carrots and lettuce. With a framework that I'll make later, peas and climbing beans can add to your food supply. The garden is too small for a potato bed but these can be purchased from the shops. Do you have any suggestions for me?'

Clotilde was surprised at how quickly he worked and how well he could speak, write and draw.

‘This would be wonderful just as you have explained it. When can you start work?'

‘Monsieur Duphly will give me one full day so perhaps Saturday, the day after tomorrow, would be a suitable time for me to come?'

‘Yes, I will be back here in the garden after the children leave school at noon. Thank you for this fine plan.'

On the appointed day Jacques appeared with his garden tools, a wheelbarrow and several boxes of small plants. He began by using a shovel to dig up the garden and turn the soil. When this was finished he took flat paving stones from the wheelbarrow and laid a pathway. The table and benches were relocated with ease. It was now noon and Clotilde noticed how hard he had worked and how much he had accomplished. She carried out a jug of cold water and a covered plate to her table, smiled at Jacques and said, ‘You should sit in the shade now and eat this lunch.'

‘Thank you, Mademoiselle. You are very kind,' replied Jacques. He was amazed when he uncovered the plate to see a chicken drumstick, a large piece of cheese and a small half loaf of bread. It was sweet and filled with raisins. It had been such a long time since he had enjoyed food like this. When lunch was finished he planted the seedlings and asked Clotilde to look over her garden. ‘It may rain later this afternoon and these plants will receive a good watering. In another two weeks I'll bring in some new plants and you can add them to the beds yourself. In this way you will keep your garden always flowering and producing food.'

Jacques could not help but notice Clotilde's blue green eyes and her beautiful chestnut brown hair. She had noted his handsome face, his quietly spoken manner and strong determination to complete the work on her garden. ‘I look forward to receiving my next plants. Thank you so much for your hard work today.' He nodded, packed his tools and returned to the Government Garden.

There he surveyed his handiwork and that of Gerard Duphly, as his thoughts travelled back to his arrival on Grande Terre. Nearly two years had passed already and after Christmas he would begin at the halfway mark of his sentence. The time had slipped away quickly and he had achieved much toward developing the garden. In his very first week Gerard presented him with a problem.

‘Jacques, what can I do with this large piece of open land, to make it more pleasing to the people here? I was thinking of hedge rows enclosing garden beds set out in a geometrical design. What are your thoughts?'

‘Monsieur Duphly, do we really want to copy the formal French gardening style with its fountains, cascades and evergreens clipped to perfection? Or do you favour the Dutch influence with William of Orange's topiary, cones and pyramids. We'll both be worked to death cutting and clipping if we choose either of these styles.'

‘What ideas do you have instead of these?'

‘In my last months at the Bagatelle I saw a painting of an English garden planned in a completely new way. This garden was less formal with trees being allowed to grow into their natural shapes. The pathways were freely flowing to take advantage of different views. Flowers were mass planted in garden beds that had been set out in scrolls and ovals. The whole effect was natural and uncluttered and was designed by a landscaper with the strange name of, Capability Brown. Perhaps some of these ideas could be introduced into the Government Garden here?'

Excitedly Gerard continued. ‘May I suggest that we divide the garden into four grand spaces with winding pathways all converging into the centre. There a three tiered fountain will provide the focus of attention. You could carry out your tree plantings and establish garden beds shaped as you see fit. You have developed this flair for landscape gardening from your years at the Bagatelle and you also see the big overall picture. Let me always check your plans progressively to evaluate them and we will both set to work.'

Slowly the Government Garden grew into a beautiful open space where all who used it could enjoy its relaxed ambience. Everyone seemed delighted with the special garden beds blazing in their riot of colours and scents. Tall trees provided shade where cast iron garden benches invited restful contemplation and provided opportunity for intimate conversation. Lovers met in these spaces, groups strolled and exchanged greetings. The children were not forgotten either and in a special section just for them, Jacques built a
follie
. This folly included a labyrinth of shoulder high clipped hedges where the children could run, get lost in and hide from one other. Nearby two swings and a see-saw provided more play space.