The Trousseau (2 page)

TIME
had flown by since the nine young brides-to-be met one another at the port of Brest, to board the barquentine that would sail them halfway around the world. The days were growing warm and sunny and thankfully the sea was calm, allowing each of them a chance to grow accustomed to the endless rise and fall of the ship. The young women were bunked together in a section of the lower deck and a cloth curtain separated them from the other passengers. Two family groups were also aboard, officers of the French Army with their wives and children. Several men engaged in the business of trade, Father Gilbert a Marist priest, and a small contingent of young soldiers completed the passenger list.

Within three weeks they had sailed past France and Portugal and were approaching the Madeira Islands, off the northwest coast of Africa. Here they would stop to take on fresh supplies. By then all the passengers had met one another and merged into a friendly group of travel companions. Louise, in her outgoing adventurous way, had made the acquaintance of all the passengers. But much to Clotilde's consternation, Louise was now spending nearly all of her time with a handsome young man, a passenger who had also boarded at Brest.

‘Clotilde and Satine, I'd like you to meet Raoul Cortega. He lives on Madeira Island where his grandfather owns one of the largest wineries. His family makes the famous Madeira and port wines and Raoul is bringing back new rootstock for his grandfather to plant.'

He greeted the girls pleasantly in perfect French. ‘You are surprised that I speak French? My mother is from Nice and my father is Portuguese so both languages are spoken in my home. Come along with me and I'll show you my precious cargo.'

The four went below where Raoul pointed out ten carefully wrapped, large twisted roots. ‘Look at how I've covered them all in wet burlap. Every other day I must turn them, check carefully and occasionally pour water over them. If the rootstock dries out, these Cabernet and Muscat grape roots will not transplant well. We will reach Porto Funchal in a short time and I'll be leaving the ship there with my stock.'

‘This is Raoul's third trip away from Madeira to buy these plants,' Louise interjected. ‘He is becoming a seasoned traveller.'

‘But let me say this is the first time I've made the journey to France for new rootstock. Usually I purchase grape vines from Spain or Portugal. It has been such a pleasure to meet Louise and now, her two travelling companions.' Raoul nodded to them.

‘We are on our way to Grande Terre, at the invitation of Emperor Napoleon and Empress Eugenie,' Clotilde spoke. ‘Our presence will help to secure this settlement for France.'

Satine added, ‘We all chose to make this voyage and I am looking forward to all the places we will visit. I have never seen anything outside of the Mater Dei Orphanage before this day.'

‘I wish you both a happy future on your new island home,' answered Raoul. He looked fondly at Louise then bowed to them as he left the group.

After a few more days of sailing, land was sighted and the ship docked at Funchal. What a joy is was, to leave the confines of the ship and move around again on firm land.

‘I have to learn how to walk all over again. It feels so strange not to be moving up and down,' Satine remarked.

Clotilde brought over two other young women, who had become friendly with them. ‘Let's all go out together in this beautiful warm sunshine and explore Funchal,' she suggested. ‘Aren't we lucky to have three days of freedom on dry land?'

‘Will Louise join us too?' asked Marianne, one of the girls.

‘I can't seem to find her,' Clotilde replied. ‘But let's be off now. We may even meet her along the way.'

Funchal appeared so exotic and beautiful to the eyes of these young women who had only known Paris from the interior of an orphanage. Their first shock came amidst the vibrant colours and abundant array of spring flowers: lilies, orchids, gazanias and a strange plant with a beak-like structure growing from its flower. ‘Someone told me it was called, Bird of Paradise,' Marianne spoke amidst their laughter. The decorative paved streets looked miraculous. The stone shops and buildings had brightly coloured roofs and everything was so clean, fresh and vibrant. The first day passed quickly and soon it was time to go back on board again for the evening meal.

On the second day Raoul offered to take Louise and the group on a tour of Funchal's civic buildings. He told them wonderful stories about the Madeira Islands. They particularly loved the tale about the famous English pirate, William Kidd, whose ship had sunk close to one of the deserted small islands. The wreckage of his ship had never been found although many were still searching for it.

‘One day, someone will discover this ship and claim the immense treasure that sank with her,' Raoul told them. ‘It won't be me though as I'll be kept busy at the winery. There is always so much work to do there.'

‘Look at that unusual building down near our ship. What is it used for?' Satine asked.

‘That is St. Tiago's Fort. It was built two hundred years ago to protect the city from pirates,' Raul replied. Next to it is the Customs House, just over behind me is the Cathedral and adjoining it is the Convent of Saint Clare.'

‘Let's visit the cathedral before we return to the ship,' Clotilde called out. ‘It looks so beautiful and we'll have just enough time.'

The cathedral was cool and quiet as they prayed then moved around its interior, admiring the carved cedar ceiling inlaid with ivory and the magnificent Flemish and Portuguese paintings behind the ornate Baroque altar. A young nun overheard them whispering in French and approached them.

‘Greetings, I am Sister Veronica and I welcome you to Funchal.'

‘Oh, what a pleasant surprise! You speak French,' the girls replied.

‘Yes, my family came here from France years ago, but most of the sisters here speak only Portuguese. When do you sail and where are you going?'

‘Tomorrow is our last day here in port and we must return to the ship by late afternoon so that we can sail out before sunset. We are bound for the Island of Grande Terre,' Clotilde replied.

Sister Veronica interjected, ‘Oh do come to the convent tomorrow for lunch and visit us before you leave. We can all meet you and learn about your long voyage to Grande Terre and why you are making this journey.'

Raoul then added, ‘I'm sure all these young women would enjoy a visit with you and the sisters. I must stay on the ship, to make sure my cargo is unloaded safely. Then I can leave during the afternoon when my coach arrives.'

And so it was decided. On the final day in port Clotilde, Louise and Satine slipped into their Sunday dresses and enjoyed a light lunch at the convent. Sister Veronica acted as their interpreter. There was much news to share and stories about Mater Dei to be told as the time passed quickly. The girls completed their visit with a tour of the convent's beautiful Baroque-style chapel and finally the cloister gardens, to admire the herbs and flowers that grew in abundance. ‘Thank you, for your hospitality and this lovely day,' all replied as they embraced the sisters and made their way back to the ship. It had been a perfect finish to their first port of call.

Late in the afternoon as everyone gathered in the wardroom before their evening meal, the ship prepared to set sail for the second leg of their journey. Louise appeared briefly and then excused herself.

‘I'd like to rest for a while and then go out on deck for some fresh air. I don't feel well.'

‘We'll see you later,' Clotilde called out to her.

When they finished their dinner, they felt a slow lurching movement of the ship as it began to leave. All moved out on deck to admire the rising moon and watch the port slowly fade behind them into the distance. They laughed and talked quietly among themselves until Clotilde suddenly felt very tired. All the others too began to leave for bed.

I'll see Louise in the morning, thought Clotilde. I am sure she is feeling well by now and is probably sound asleep. Clotilde climbed into her bunk, dozed lightly then sank into a deep slumber.

Only the following morning after they were well on their way, did Clotilde first notice Louise's empty bed. Only then did she see that her trousseau was missing from its place on the floor. It was at that same moment that she found a note and read its contents. The tears began to stream down her cheeks.

Then Satine suddenly joined her, crying aloud in consternation. ‘Clotilde, I'm so worried. Where is Louise? I've looked everywhere for her!'

‘Sit next to me, Satine. I have some news to share with you.'

‘You've been crying, Clotilde. Something dreadful must have happened?' Clotilde showed Satine a note written in Louise's handwriting then read its message aloud to her, through her tears.

Dear Clotilde and Satine,

By the time you read this note you will be sailing toward Cape Town. I decided to leave the ship in Madeira to stay with Raoul. He has asked me to marry him and we plan to live outside Funchal on his grandfather's winery. I will miss you both and I know that you will find happiness in Grande Terre. Don't be angry with me. I love Raoul and have decided to follow my heart. I pray that you, Mother Germain and the Archbishop of Paris will forgive me. I will write to the sisters at Mater Dei and I will never forget you.

Your loving friend,
Louise

The two girls were speechless with shock and surprise. Satine spoke first. ‘Clotilde, she promised Mother Germain and the Archbishop she would sail to Grande Terre. She accepted the gift from the Empress, but she deceived us all.'

‘I am very saddened too but we must not stand in judgement on Louise. We will tell the ship's captain what has happened, show him the note and then pray for her. I want Louise to have a happy life with Raoul.'

‘We will never see Louise again.' Satine began to cry as the two sat quietly, holding hands and speaking in whispers, about the past events of their voyage. At least they were still together, able to offer comfort and friendship to each other through the time of their first loss.

ON
a late October morning a cry rang out over the barquentine. ‘Land Ho!' Clotilde awoke with a start to hear the call again. ‘Land Ho.'

By now many were dressing quickly and hurrying to the port side, to gaze at a thin sliver of green that was barely seen against the horizon. The sun was rising in the east, its brilliance creating a pathway of molten gold. The sea was calm and the possibility of an end to their journey filled everyone's hearts with exultation.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Grande Terre lies ahead, two days sailing on our present course.' Captain LaValle's voice rang out loudly over the ship and the passengers broke into shouts of joy and loud clapping. At last, after seven long months at sea, the voyage would finally be over. Clotilde and Satine hugged each other as they shared their excitement.

‘Finally we can leave the confines of this cramped, dark ship and get away from the constant rolling of the sea. I can hardly wait to take a bath again and wear some clean clothing.'

‘I'm longing to have some space for a good walk on land again as well as fresh food and water. Everything tastes so stale now and this morning the bread at breakfast was filled with weevils.'

Their previous two stopovers at Cape Town in South Africa and Batavia in Java had offered a welcome relief from sailing. The first view of the port at Table Bay included the wrecks of several ships. Only four jetties were operational here and the waterfront had become cluttered with skin-drying, wool-processing, fish-smoking and boat-building establishments. There was little to see in Cape Town other than the Castle of Good Hope and several buildings of architectural beauty. Yet a major stopover here of several days allowed everyone to go ashore again, to break the monotony of sailing and to replenish supplies. The voyage resumed, the Cape of Good Hope was passed and only the last leg of the journey remained.

But their final stop in Batavia was the most welcome one of all. This small but very prosperous settlement functioned as the headquarters for the Dutch East India Company. The settlement was administered within the walls of Batavia Castle, where a busy trade in silk, tea and spices continued to flourish. Outside of the castle, on spacious avenues lined with tall shade trees, lived the wealthy Dutch merchants and their families. Elegant two storey homes, built of white timber and stone, lined these roadways. There was much to enjoy here as the passengers walked through the castle, the harbour fortifications and splendid avenues. It was good to do some shopping and stretch their land legs again.

‘I'm happy to spend a few days here although the weather is very hot and humid,' Satine mentioned.

‘I hope Grande Terre will be settled as well as Batavia is,' replied Clotilde.

The ship's stores were replenished with fresh water and more supplies. Then the last stage of the journey began, down the north-eastern coast of the Great South Land to Grande Terre. By now Clotilde felt a deep sense of joy because she had received a special acknowledgement. It was earned on board the ship, through her own hard work. She had unknowingly put an event into motion that had secured a fine position for herself on Grande Terre and it made her heart sing.

This event began after the shock of Louise's departure had worn away and the voyage resumed, sailing along the coast of Africa toward Cape Town. By now, Clotilde and Satine had become very friendly with the two families that accompanied the officers. One young wife named Blandine had three children – eight and six year old boys and a beautiful baby sister. The other family, Lucie's children, included a seven year old girl and a five year old boy. As their journey slowly moved ahead the children had grown restless. Of late the boys had become a nuisance on the ship, running up and down the deck, laughing loudly and climbing over ropes and boxes. Finally Captain LaValle complained to their fathers.

‘I don't know what to do with them any more either,' the tired mothers chorused. ‘They need something to occupy their time and settle them down.' As Clotilde overheard them, an idea suddenly entered her mind. She approached both mothers the next day.

‘I see that you have several story books on the shelf above your stored trunks. Let me take these and I'll gather the children for story reading time in the mornings.'

‘What a wonderful idea, Clotilde.' Much to everyone's relief the children loved their story time with Clotilde, who read to them in a warm and lilting voice, frequently asking questions about each story and the interesting animals and people found in it. The story sessions then expanded as wooden pencils and paper, reading books, slates and chalks were offered. Blandine, Lucie and Clotilde approached Captain LaValle, to request some table space in the ship's wardroom during the late mornings and early afternoons. He was delighted to oblige them and soon regular schooling had begun.

Much to her surprise, Clotilde discovered that she had a talent for teaching. On many occasions she recalled the classes Sister Celeste had taught them at Mater Dei. Sister would explain a new lesson to the group, then as the girls worked at their desks, she would move around, checking carefully to make sure they understood what they were doing. Those who were slow to master the lesson were called up to her desk for extra practice. Older girls always helped the younger ones and only when all were ready, did Sister Celeste move ahead to something new. Clotilde had a kind and compassionate mentor – the perfect model for her own style of teaching. It proved very successful as the children loved her. Clotilde was firm, but always patient. Little by little, working away in the semi-darkness of the wardroom, on the table that rose and fell with the rhythm of the waves, the children began to improve their skills in reading, writing and arithmetic.

Then Satine stepped forward with another suggestion. ‘When I was at Mater Dei, Sister Aimee taught me how to play the piano. Let me take the children for a short singing lesson. I can teach them some of our French hymns and folk songs.' In no time the children and their mothers had formed a choir. Satine had a beautiful soprano voice and when Captain LaValle heard them singing, he offered her an old harmonium which she accepted with delight.

‘We have a small pump organ in the officer's wardroom that has been covered with a cloth for ages. No one could ever play it, but perhaps it may be useful to you, Satine, and to my floating classroom.'

She found three notes that wouldn't sound and the organ wheezed badly when she pumped the two pedals. After the ship's carpenter made repairs and reattached the bellows, it was brought back into working order once again. Satine was thrilled and produced her only book – the leather bound French Hymn Book, presented to her by Sister Aimee when she left for Grande Terre. She played accompaniments for the choir and provided music for Father Gilbert's Sunday morning mass, celebrated for all on the foredeck. On one special Sunday feast day as the choir sang, Satine's angelic soprano floated above on a second line of melody. The entire ship's company clapped and cheered her when she had finished. Satine was so overwhelmed she burst into tears on the spot.

And now, after the welcome cry of Land Ho, the long voyage was finally coming to its end. Clotilde, Satine, the mothers and pupils rehearsed for the concert they would present on their last evening at sea. Everyone gathered on the deck as twilight slowly descended. It was a balmy, magical night as a new moon began to rise slowly beneath a canopy of shining stars. Captain LaValle addressed all present. ‘We have endured a long voyage together and I wish to express my thanks to one and all, for making this journey a safe and happy one.' The captain was given three resounding cheers. Father Gilbert then gave everyone a final blessing after which all sang a hymn. The choir presented two French folk songs. Satine was invited to stand as she was presented with a lovely silk shawl by Lucie. There was much applause. For their final offering the children recited a poem from memory and acted in a little play they had written, based upon one of their stories. Each child had a part and not one forgot their lines. They were thrilled to have done so well.

At the conclusion of the farewell concert the two officers and their wives requested that Clotilde now step forward. As she faced the entire ship's company - captain, crew and passengers, they thanked her for her many hours spent in teaching their children. Blandine presented her with a gift of their appreciation – a beautiful black onyx inkstand and holder, together with a wooden pen. Its writing end was bound with leather and decorated with a small gold band. In a second box were four steel nibs and a bottle of ink. An officer spoke.

‘Our dear Clotilde, may this gift grace your desk, as we extend our invitation to you, to teach the children of our Government and Military at Grande Terre. We have learned that a teacher is badly needed.One was to sail with us, but at the last moment she decided not to join us on this voyage. We were all distressed until you stepped forward to teach our children. Your skills are greatly in demand and we eagerly await your reply.'

Clotilde was overcome. I can be a teacher in my new home, she thought to herself. I will make a place for myself where I will be useful to the colony. Her mind was made up and her reply came then and there.

‘Yes. I thank you all for this beautiful gift and I will be honoured to accept your offer.'

A chorus of clapping and cheering followed as Clotilde fought to hold back her tears. The long voyage was safely over. At last she was in her new home.