asked Gaudet about Louisbourg.
“Monsieur, you visited Île Royale?”
By this time, he had calmed himself sufficiently and was able to manage a civil answer to my question.
“We not only visited, we lived there for close to two years. Our departure to Île Royale is a fascinating story.” His enthusiasm for storytelling seemed to return. “Thinking we might move to Louisbourg, we decided to visit there and investigate the land and the people’s life. We had heard that a group of Acadians from Annapolis had travelled to Île Royale to make an official investigation for those who might wish to migrate. We were not authorized to join the group, but we obtained a passport to fish in the bay as a pretext for joining the delegation. Denys and I hid our fishing boat at St. Croix and boarded the ship and sailed to Port Toulouse, where we spent a short time. Then we continued on to Louisbourg.”
I was captivated.
“To our great good fortune, our building skills were much prized in the French colony. We practised our beam construction on the governor’s house at Louisbourg, can you believe it, and on many other homes of important Frenchmen there. The building trade kept us busy and it became quite profitable. However, the land beneath our feet was made of solid rock. One could walk on the water, there were so many fish in the sea, but the land was barren. And the fogs were so thick you could barely see the sea or the land for days on end. As for farming, such an enterprise was impossible. You could plant nothing but turnip and cabbage. We considered ourselves builders, but more importantly we saw ourselves as keepers of the land, much as our ancestors had at Port Royal and in France. A man has no soul if he is not tilling the soil or rescuing the salt marshes from the sea. This is what makes one an Acadian. His dikes and his fertile soil mean everything to him!
“So we returned home after two years abroad. Our boat was still safely hidden at St. Croix.” He began to laugh. “I am not certain anyone at the fort noticed our long absence. Perhaps those who granted us our passports thought it was a particularly long fishing expedition!”
We all began to laugh. The company was merry. I liked Bernard Gaudet — exceedingly!
Chapter 10
The business of the oath began to heat up to such a degree at Annapolis that most of the men at René’s building site agreed it would be prudent to escape the flames flickering around them. Gaudet declared he was leaving Annapolis and was returning home to Gaudet Village.
“My friends, it is time to leave here before we are forced to do what we know we cannot possibly do. And you all know what that is. I was wondering, young Belliveau, whether we might impose on your brother Charles to transport us home in his chaloupe. We have no vessels, since ours returned home when our families sailed upriver after your grandmother’s birthday celebration. Perhaps you could stay on at my home as a guest. It is summer, and life in the upper river is especially pleasant at this time of year. And there are many amusements which you might find attractive.”
Gaudet was giving me his blessing to court his daughter Jeanne. It was an invitation I could not refuse.
A short time later the mood was altered by the sound of approaching soldiers. They appeared in the lower town, led by the lieutenant-governor himself, who was, in turn, accompanied by the royal favourite, Mangeant, and Major Cosby, chief officer of the military. They carried with them a sense of fear and intimidation as they made their way through the streets of Annapolis to the town square.
Everyone was ordered into the street to hear Armstrong’s proclamation. Mangeant acted as translator, which gave the order an even more sinister tone.
“Be advised that all adult inhabitants of the town and surrounding areas must gather at the church no later than tomorrow at noon to take the oath of allegiance to the newly crowned king of England. Those who fail to do so risk imprisonment in the garrison jail. Members of the Acadian Council are still in custody there as an example to the rest of the community.”
The tone in Mangeant’s voice matched the vehemence in Armstrong’s. The royal favourite appeared to enjoy his superior status in the square.
Soon after the regiment returned to the fort, I volunteered to go to Charles at the shipyard to arrange a hasty departure. Charles was already aware of the proclamation and quickly agreed to my request to leave for Gaudet Village. I believe he was as relieved as the rest of us to have an excuse to get as far away from Annapolis as possible, if only for a short time. We Acadians had cultivated a variety of escape routes to avoid the will of the lieutenant-governor.
Our exit went unnoticed. Although we evacuated the building site with great speed, no one in the fort could have suspected our destination. Charles carried passengers to and from Melanson Village daily, so our departure caused no suspicion. We were fortunate in our timing. The direction of the tide was in our favour. Not only did we have the advantage of a southwest wind, but the river was approaching its high tide. Charles would be able to drift downstream with the tide when he sailed home.
Our journey up the Annapolis River was a revelation to me. Along the way the rich grain fields danced in the breezes and filled our sails with the warmth and energy of late summer. The river meandered through the verdant valley protected by the North Mountain on its left side and the South Mountain on its right. This protection created a natural haven for growing and grazing. We sailed by Belle Isle and Paradise, apt names for both communities. The further we floated upstream, the freer I felt. Nearing Gaudet Village I was seized by a sense of peace I had not experienced since my winters at Grand Pré with Uncle Pierre and Isabelle — and by a new awareness of the path I was to take on my life’s journey.
As Charles’s chaloupe approached the shore at Gaudet Village, I felt like Moses being greeted by the daughters of Midian. Every woman and child of the colony came out to meet us. I presumed it was because of the unexpected return of their patriarch, Bernard.
It was a unique experience for me to witness so many unfamiliar faces. Arriving at such an isolated community was not something that many experienced in their lifetime. For an unmarried young Acadian man it was particularly poignant. I searched the faces of the young women, hoping to spot Jeanne’s. Would I recognize her in the light of day? Would the memory of her profile lit by the light of a wood fire fail me? My self-doubt was interrupted by Bernard Gaudet’s hardy cry.
“Bonjour, my lovelies! I come bearing gifts. I bring two handsome young men to brighten your day and stimulate romance in our little village!” He broke into his familiar laughter while embracing his wife and daughters. Benjamin and I cautiously disembarked, leaving Charles at the helm of his boat.
“Join us, Charles Belliveau, and rest a while before returning downriver. Perhaps you can catch tomorrow’s tide or possibly the next day’s. Each day away will soften your arrival back at Annapolis.”
Charles understood that this was wise advice.
“If you have sufficient room for all three of us, Monsieur Gaudet, I will accept your kind invitation.”
“That is excellent, monsieur. It is the least I can do to repay you for transporting us home.”
Gaudet continued to shout. “Attention, everyone! Allow me to introduce our honoured guests, brothers Charles and Pierre Belliveau, grandsons of Madame Marie Melanson, and their handsome young cousin, Benjamin LeBlanc from Grand Pré, grandson of the venerable and now deceased Pierre Laverdure. I beg you to make them feel welcome.”
The
