Jeanne Dugas of Acadia

by Cassie Deveaux Cohoon

  Joseph had managed to pay a clandestine visit to see his brothers and other relatives in Grand-Pré. “Please don’t ask me how I managed this, Jeanne,” he said.

  “No, Joseph, I won’t. But please tell me, how is everyone. Are they safe? Are my step-sisters well, and the twins, how are they? I do think of them.”

  “Everyone is safe. The girls are all happy. Charles and Anne treat them as if they were their own children. But Charles and Abraham are becoming worried about the situation. And you should hear Uncle Abraham!”

  Jeanne was reminded of their visit to Grand-Pré before the fall of Louisbourg, when Joseph had talked to her about their Dugas ancestor as she sat on a mound of hay in Uncle Abraham’s barn.

  “Did your father-in-law go with you to Grand-Pré?”

  “No,” said Joseph with a grim smile. “Le Maigre is not going to risk going there now, not after his capture as an Acadian zealot and his terrible imprisonment a few years ago.”

  “What about you, Joseph? Are you one of these zealots?”

  Joseph looked at her intently. He hesitated. “I don’t know, Jeanne. It’s not that I feel I owe anything to France. I think they have abandoned us. But I am concerned about the Acadians in Nova Scotia and those, like us, outside the British colony. The sad truth is that the Acadians in Nova Scotia just want to live in peace on their farms. They are not a threat to the British, except for a few like my father-in-law who can only cause a bit of mischief.

  “Charles and Abraham tell me they hoped that having Hopson as governor would help their cause and they were sorry to see him leave. Apparently he has a problem with his eyes. He’s afraid of losing his eyesight and that’s why he returned to England. It’s too bad he had to go.

  “It’s obvious that Governor Lawrence’s approach is a military one and that he has little sympathy for his Acadian subjects. He calls them ‘the French inhabitants,’ not ‘the Neutrals,’ making it clear that he does not consider them citizens anymore. And he is known to have close ties with Governor Shirley of the colony of Massachusetts. Uncle Abraham tells me that bodes no good and I’m sure he’s right.

  “Anyway, it seems that Governor Lawrence is occupied with administrative matters for now, but the Acadians in Nova Scotia are worried. I know you want to ask me what is going to happen, but the truth is I don’t know.”

  “What about Île Royale? Will it remain French?”

  “Ah, Jeanne, that is hard to say. The British would like to have Île Royale, and especially Louisbourg. It would make their shipping lanes secure. The Acadians are not a threat to them in this sense, but they don’t seem to realize that. If the British and the French get involved in another war in Europe, then I’m afraid there will be repercussions for us. We’re all right for the moment, Jeanne. When I have more news, I will tell you.”

  —

  The end of the season arrived with no great change in the situation. It was a profitable year for both Pierre and Joseph, but a difficult one. Joseph said that everything had gone well, but Le Maigre let drop a few references to what Jeanne believed were scrapes with privateers. Even Pierre had had a run-in with a British ship, and to Jeanne’s dismay her husband seemed to be exhilarated by the experience. It was a relief to Jeanne when the snow and ice closed in on them, once again sealing them off from events in the larger world.

  Chapter 19

  In 1755, the settlers in Port Toulouse awaited the arrival of spring with great anxiety. They were safe for the winter, but as if suspended in space and time. They could not plan for events they could not foresee. The winter passed quietly, the weather was severe. There was less frequent visiting between distant farms. Spring arrived late.

  Jeanne was busy with her growing family. Little Marie had had her first birthday in October, and Jeanne’s second child arrived in December. They named the new baby boy Pierre Abraham, Pierre for his father and Abraham for all the Abrahams in the Dugas family past and present. He would be known as Pierrot. Despite the busy days in her habitation, Jeanne was deeply worried.

  She knew that the political situation was out of her hands. But what if, mon Dieu, Joseph or Pierre were captured or killed on one of their voyages? Or what if it was decided they had to flee once more? She was afraid that Pierre and Joseph would not agree on their destination. Would she be separated from Joseph and his children? She knew her brothers Charles and Abraham in Grand-Pré were planning to go to the Miramichi area, wherever that was, but would they get away safely? And if she and her family followed them, how would they find them? This was a vast country. How would they cope with the children?

  The first reports to reach Port Toulouse in the spring were that nothing had changed, but this did not seem to ease the apprehension felt by the Dugas and others. The families went to see the schooners off on the first sailing as usual, but the send-off was somewhat subdued. Jeanne noticed that Martin Sauvage sailed on Joseph’s ship, but she did not have a chance to speak with him. Left behind, the families settled into their everyday chores, planting their gardens, tending the farm animals and visiting families on neighbouring farms – and waiting. Jeanne was again with child.

  —

  Before long they learned that, in the spring, the British had confiscated boats and firearms belonging to the Acadians in Nova Scotia. Early in July, the Acadians had sent a delegation to Halifax to ask for the return of their arms because they needed them to protect their farms against wild animals. The request was refused and the Acadians were told that they must now swear an unqualified oath of allegiance to the English king. The delegates refused and were thrown into the prison sheds on Georges Island in Halifax Harbour. Later in the month a second group of delegates went to Halifax, with the same results. When some Acadians then agreed to sign the unqualified oath, they were now refused. But what did this mean? What would the consequences be?

  Joseph was home in early August. He confirmed the reports but did not have much to add to them.

  “Does this mean that Charles and Abraham have lost their schooners?” Jeanne asked.

  “No,” he said.

  “Have you seen them, Joseph?”

  Joseph hesitated. “I saw Abraham at sea very briefly in May. He said they planned to leave Grand-Pré this summer, but I don’t know if they have managed to do so.”

  “Jeanne,” he added, “there’s nothing more I can tell you. I know the Acadians in Nova Scotia are very worried. They don’t know what these new restrictions mean. There are still some settlers leaving, but fewer than last year because of the new restrictions. And the British redcoats seem to be everywhere.

  “Some of the older settlers still hope the situation will calm down and that they can continue to live peacefully as before on their farms. But more and more Acadians, both young and old, think differently. And many of them have no easy means of escape.”

  “What about us, Joseph?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Has Pierre been home?”

  “Not as much as usual. He is very busy. He thinks that Louisbourg is stockpiling goods in case of war. But he says that the officials at the garrison are not talking openly about this.”

  “Joseph, did I see Martin Sauvage sail with you in the spring?”

  “Yes, Jeanne. Like his uncle Jean, Martin is a very good scout. It’s helpful to have him with us. He’s able to get good intelligence for us from other Mi’kmaq in various places.”

  “Has he come back with you?”

  “No. We left him at one of the Mi’kmaw encampments and will pick him up there later in the season. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Joseph did not return to Port Toulouse again until after his last voyage at the end of the sailing season.

  —

  Shocking news reached the settlers in Port Toulouse. Acadian
s in Nova Scotia were being deported. Most of the news they received came from the Grand-Pré area, but it was rumoured that deportations were taking place from other parts of Nova Scotia as well.

  On September 2, a proclamation had been issued, ordering all men and boys over the age of ten in Grand-Pré and the neighbouring settlements to present themselves three days later, at the Church of Saint-Charles-des-Mines, to receive a proclamation from the British king. When they did so, they were told that they were to be deported. Their lands, livestock and other effects, except for money and household goods, were forfeited to the British crown. The men and boys were locked in the church to await the transport vessels. They were promised that they would be reunited with their families when they left.

  Jeanne was stunned when she heard the news. Her first thought was for her brothers and their families. Had they managed to get away? And where were these people being sent? To France? The procedure of deportation was not unknown. After the fall of Louisbourg in 1745, French settlers and some Acadians had been deported to France. But why would the British authorities do this now, in peacetime? And without any warning?

  Jeanne was also worried for Pierre and Joseph. There had been no word from them since early August. Grandfather Coste kept a close watch on incoming ships at the harbour and knowing Jeanne’s preoccupation with political news, would pass on any information he received.

  In October they heard that British transport ships had finally arrived in Grand-Pré in late September. Two weeks later, fourteen ships laden with Acadians had set sail. The British had not kept their promise to reunite families for the voyage, and the departure had been a disaster, a mad scramble of settlers and their goods and a desperate search for family members. It was also said that as the fourteen ships set sail, the settlers had seen their farms go up in flames as the British deliberately destroyed them behind the deported Acadians.

  Jeanne knew that there were bound to be rumours and exaggerations, but even if not all the stories were accurate, the very fact of a deportation not tied to war was unimaginable to her.

  Pierre and Joseph arrived home soon after this latest news. Joseph seemed to be in a state of shock. Although he took a cynical view of the British and even the French authorities, he clearly had not considered such an eventuality. He seemed reluctant to discuss the matter with either Jeanne or Pierre.

  Pierre pushed his way into the conversation this time. “Joseph, I know you don’t usually confide in me,” he said, “but this is very serious now and I too need to know what you know and what you think we should do.” Joseph seemed startled to hear Pierre speak this way.

  “Yes, well, Pierre, I can only tell you the stories I’ve heard. Acadians are not only being deported from Grand-Pré, but from all different areas in Nova Scotia. They have not been told where they are going, but it seems clear that it is not France. I’ve heard that they are to be dispersed throughout the British colonies. It’s true that families were separated and no effort was made to reunite them for the voyage. And there are reports that some of the ships they boarded were not seaworthy and were overcrowded. Only God knows if all these ships will even reach their destinations.

  “Most of the settlers who tried to escape on foot were recaptured by the British militia,” he continued, “some shot dead in their tracks. One man who escaped the church in Grand-Pré was captured and his home burned in front of his eyes as a warning to others. The stories go on and on.” Joseph shook his head.

  “Joseph,” Jeanne said, “we hear that one family made it out of Grand-Pré, the Maillets. They are here with Antoinette Martin on her farm. Apparently, they arrived with a wounded man, all of them almost starved to death, and destitute. A second man in their family was shot dead by the redcoats.”

  “You mean some of them survived? They weren’t all killed?” asked Joseph. “That’s a miracle.”

  “Joseph....”

  “I know what you’re afraid to ask, Jeanne. As far as I know Charles and Abraham and their families managed to get away – and I think before the proclamation. Whether or not they arrived safely in Miramichi I just don’t know.

  “And you want to know what we should do,” he added sadly. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” he repeated. “Certainly, we must stay here for the winter.”

  —

  The disturbing news of the deportation had briefly diverted the attention of the Port Toulouse settlers away from the worry of another war between Britain and France. Jeanne now asked Joseph about this situation.

  Joseph sighed and seemed to sag in weariness. “Jeanne,” he said, “sometimes I wish I had never started to discuss politics with you.”

  “Joseph...” she pleaded.

  “I don’t know, Jeanne. There is no definite news. I just don’t know. There was one worrying event. I don’t know if you’ve heard of this, but the British captured Fort du Beauséjour in June. The French commandant held off the attack for two weeks. He had the help of that black Abbott, LeLoutre, and Joseph Broussard dit Beausoleil. But the French fighters were outnumbered and the fort fell. They say LeLoutre burned down the nearby cathedral to keep it out of the hands of the British. Stupid man. This probably only gave the British another excuse to put the deportation into effect. It’s bad news for France, because the fort controlled the Chignecto area, the only overland passage between Louisbourg and Québec in the winter months. But what this means for now, Jeanne, I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  Pierre put his arm around Jeanne. “Joseph,” he said, “I’ve thought about all this, and I believe that if you decide to leave Île Royale, Jeanne and I and our children should go with you and your family. I don’t know why I can’t get an answer from my family as to what they propose to do.” Jeanne looked at her husband, surprised.

  Joseph nodded to Pierre. “If you’re sure.” He hesitated. “I can’t guarantee you safety, but then I don’t think anyone can.”

  When Jeanne questioned Pierre later, he said that he knew she would prefer to throw in her lot with Joseph. “Thank you, my husband,” she said and gratefully laid her head on his shoulder.

  —

  Again they settled down to a quiet winter. Jeanne liked to think of their secluded little corner of the earth as a safe harbour in the winter months, but now she worried that this winter might be their last one here. Then what? She decided that she could at least take some steps to prepare for whatever they would face. She told Joseph and Pierre of her plans and enlisted Marie Braud’s help. Jeanne’s plan was that the two families begin to operate as if they were going to flee. They would save some of their dried food supplies for the spring and knit and weave fabric for extra clothing and linens. It would give them a purpose through the long winter months. Jeanne asked Grandfather Coste to make some small wooden cradles to use on the ship for her babies. They all threw themselves into the work.

  In mid-November, soon after their plans were put into effect, Jeanne gave birth to her third child. A second girl. Jeanne named her Angélique Anne, for her late sister. She imagined that baby Angélique had her sister’s colouring and that she would look like her. “But you’ll have to be stronger than my sister,” she whispered to the baby. Angélique fussed more than her siblings had, and Jeanne wondered if she sensed her mother’s worried state of mind.

  Jeanne’s main worry was where they would go. At least Pierre had decided they would follow her brother Joseph. But would Joseph choose to follow Charles and Abraham to the Miramichi area, or would he choose some more dangerous path? Jeanne knew very well that he must be having heated discussions with Joseph Leblanc dit Le Maigre during the winter months, but she was not privy to them. Joseph seemed to be reluctant to share his thoughts with her. He said only that most of the settlers in the area of Port Toulouse were planning to leave in the spring, but that he would wait to hear the news the first ships brought before deciding where to go.

  Part 3

  Fligh
t

  to Miramichi

  Chapter 20

  The first ships of the season in 1756 did not bring confirmation of war between Britain and France, but the looks on the faces of those who brought the news indicated that it was only a matter of time. The settlers knew that events were outside their control.

  There was also news of the continuing deportation of Acadians. Jeanne was sick with worry for Charles and Abraham and their families.

  “Are they really safe in the Miramichi?” she asked Joseph. “Could they be deported from there?”

  “No, Jeanne.... Although I suppose anything is possible at a time like this. But if they are with Boishébert they should be safe.”

  “I’ve heard his name,” Jeanne said. “Who is he? Is he an Acadian? Not a cousin, I hope,” she said wryly.

  “No, he’s not a cousin.” Joseph smiled. “Charles Deschamps de Boishébert was born in Québec. He joined the French troops when he was only fifteen years old and he has spent a lot of his life in our part of the world. He seems to be a man like the first Charles de Saint-Étienne de la Tour. They say he can handle a birch bark canoe as well as any Mi’kmaw, and that he can disguise himself as a farmer or fisherman in order to move around freely and reconnoitre in the woods and at sea.”

  “But has he fought in any battles here?” Jeanne asked. “Does he understand what is involved?”

  “Yes, Jeanne. Boishébert was with the French colonial forces when they captured Port-la-Joye and with the expedition against Annapolis Royal. He took part in the defeat of the British in the Battle of Grand-Pré. When he was commandant of Fort Ménagoache and heard that the British were coming to destroy it, he and his men set fire to the little fort and fled up the river.”

  “Is he on the side of the Acadians, or of the French?”