The Trousseau

  The Trousseau

  Mary Mageau

  DOCTORZED PUBLISHING

  www.doctorzed.com

  The Trousseau

  Copyright © 2011 by Mary Mageau

  Mary Mageau asserts the moral right of the author of this title.

  1st ebook edition 2011

  DoctorZed Publishing

  www.doctorzed.com

  10 Vista Ave, Skye

  South Australia 5072

  DoctorZed Publishing is a member of APA

  (Australian Publishers Association)

  eISBN: 978-0-9871239-3-0

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned or transmitted in any printed or electronic form, without prior permission from the publisher.

  Please do not participate in and/or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the Author’s rights.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  For Ken

  OTHER TITLES

  In the Eye of a Storm

  An Antique Brooch

  INDEX

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  THE AUTHOR

  I

  EXCITEMENT filled a beautifully appointed room as early morning sunlight slanted through its windows. The Empress Eugenie had gathered five elegantly dressed ladies around a large polished oak table. It was covered with swatches of cotton and printed muslin fabric, scraps of lace, ribbons, writing papers, and toiletries. A sturdy medium-sized sea chest served as its centrepiece.

  ‘I’ve called you all together to help me solve a problem.’ Eugenie addressed those present: the Princess d’Essling, her chief Lady in Waiting, her wardrobe mistress and her two dressmakers.

  The ladies laughed lightly as they greeted each other, kissed one another’s cheeks and took their places. ‘I love solving a problem, especially if it has something to do with a woman’s wardrobe,’ the Princess replied.

  After all had been seated Eugenie spoke. ‘If you were a young bride leaving France to sail to an island in the far South Pacific Ocean, never to return home again, what would you pack in your trousseau?’

  A gasp was heard around the table. ‘Now please take a moment to think on this then we’ll hear from each of you.’ As the surprised group looked silently at the table Eugenie sat back, reflecting on the unusual circumstances that required her to hold this meeting.

  During the previous summer, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, now Emperor Napoleon III, observed two footmen as they carried an ornate silver tray to his mahogany desk. In the centre of the tray rested a large, well-scrubbed rock. Louis had carefully selected this space so that full sunlight bathed the rock in a golden glow. On its surface many large veins of iridescent green and deep blue took on a sheen and sparkle, so beautiful, that he caught his breath whenever he looked at it.

  ‘You may leave now,’ he told the footmen. Louis then smiled at an elegant woman who had just entered the room.

  ‘Come and look at this, Eugenie.’ The Empress Eugenie, his beautiful consort, quickly crossed the floor and gazed in wonder at the shimmering rock.

  ‘What is this? Have you found an emerald in the stone?’

  ‘No, Eugenie, this rock contains nickel and has just come from the island of Grande Terre in the South Pacific.’

  ‘But it is so lovely. Whatever is nickel used for?’

  ‘In 1853 this island became a French possession to serve as a penal colony. But vast amounts of nickel have also been discovered in underground caves and rocks everywhere. When nickel is mined the mineral has many uses. It strengthens coins, it is ideal for plating iron and brass and this beautiful green provides an emerald tint for glass making. In addition cobalt can also be extracted from the rock and used for its rich blue colouring.’

  ‘This could be of benefit to all our painters and glass artisans, particularly those that make our stained glass windows.’

  ‘Now be seated, Eugenie, as I have a plan to discuss with you. I must turn to you again as you always offer me the best advice.’

  Louis then explained that Grande Terre, now also called Nouvelle-Caledonie, had to be colonized and the French presence strengthened, so as to thwart attempts by the British to seize or steal away its valuable minerals.

  ‘Last year we transported a ship filled with our first convicts and some political prisoners to the island. There are a number of free settlers also in residence there as well. Many of the convicts are young men who have been sentenced for very minor offences. After these men serve out their sentences, the French Government will offer them a free parcel of land, should they choose to stay. Already there is a small settlement being built on the south west of the island around a chain of beautiful bays. It is known today as Port-de-France. However the most essential part of this colonial program is missing. All these men will need wives – strong young women who will marry them and raise children for France. Please think on this as I know you will find a way to invite young women to our noble calling. Yes, our Grande Terre settlement plan now demands your woman’s touch.’

  ‘Louis, I already have an idea taking form in my mind and I will give my full attention to your request. Leave this with me now.’

  Eugenie had always found practical solutions for any requests made of her and she enjoyed planning ways to better the lives of French women, particularly those of the poor classes. This new challenge, involving an island paradise in the South Pacific, captured her imagination and would become a special joy for her to work on.

  And in another part of Paris three young girls, Clotilde, Louise and Jeanne, were on their hands and knees singing happily. They had just finished scrubbing a hallway of hewn slate. It was a tedious job, keeping the entrance and main hall of the Mater Dei Orphanage clean and sparkling. Over the years the girls had become close friends and they enjoyed singing as a way to lighten their load.

  ‘Well done, girls,’ called Sister Celeste as she inspected their work. ‘After you have finished your cleaning, meet me in the large room for reading and numbers.’

  All the girls at the Mater Dei home loved Sister Celeste. She was gentle and kind often interceding for them after a sharp scolding from Mother Germain. The home housed many young orphans, ranging in age from infants to girls in their late teens. All of them worked in some way toward maintaining the smooth running of the orphanage. The older girls were skilled in cooking, cleaning, washing, sewing and caring for each young child. In exchange for their work they were well fed, taught to pray and read, to do their numbers and excel in needlework. As they matured the sisters found placements for their charges in the homes of their wealthy benefactors.

  ‘If you need a perfect housemaid or even a governess, choose one from the Mater Dei,’ the women of Paris often said. ‘This orphanage turns out only the finest girls.’

  Yet Mother Germain and her sisters were concerned as the numbers of older girls kept increasing. It was also becoming more difficult to find placements for them. They prayed for a solution to the problem, as help was needed during this challenging time.

  II

  LATE in November of 1864 flurries of snow had begun to cover the ground in a blanket of white. Eugenie watched this first sign of approaching winter from her large windows as the footmen heaped more wood on the fire. Moments later another footman appeared carrying a sturdily built sea chest. It was too large for a woman to carry alone but easy for a man to lift.

  ‘Please place it on the mahogany table in the centre of the room,’ Eugenie instructed him.

>   Then excitedly she opened the lid and its contents became visible, just as the Emperor entered the room.

  ‘Louis, I have been busy at work on our Grande Terre project and I’ve accomplished much to share with you. Over the past month I have visited several orphanages and spoken to the Reverend Mothers and sisters. There are a number of the older girls who are entering marriageable age and may be interested in volunteering for the voyage to Grande Terre. We jointly reached a list of the following requirements for each of the girls: they must be no younger than sixteen years of age and they must realize that they go to be married and to bear children for France and the church. They must also promise to remain on Grande Terre. Am I correct to say that their French citizenship will be continued for themselves, their husbands and children?’

  ‘Of course, they will always remain citizens of France.’

  Eugenie continued, ‘The young women will sail from France shortly before Easter of next year and each of the girls will be presented with an early wedding gift from me, her own personal trousseau. I have assembled this little gift here on the table and invite you to inspect its contents.’

  ‘Eugenie, I’m amazed. You have achieved so much in such a short time. Now let me see what you have cleverly packed into this charming little chest.’

  She proceeded to lift out the first layer which contained an opened box. Placed inside were all the essentials to make a young woman feel cherished and beautiful: an ivory hand mirror, a matching hair brush and comb, a bar of perfumed soap tied with satin ribbon, scented face crème and one small bottle of cologne. A hand signed card rested on the top bearing the notation: With best wishes from the Empress Eugenie.

  ‘Oh, how appropriate for a trousseau,’ exclaimed the emperor. ‘This is so feminine and will be certain to attract the attention of any young girl.’

  ‘But wait, Louis, as there is more to come.’

  Eugenie then proceeded to lift out a long white cotton dress beautifully embroidered with tiny flowers and trimmed with lace. ‘See how cleverly the dress falls from a square yoke and elbow length gathered sleeves. It should fit all sizes of our little French brides – both large and small. And to complete the wedding ensemble is a simple shoulder length lace veil attached to a white embroidered head band.’

  ‘Magnificent,’ he replied.

  At the bottom of the chest rested two towels, a sewing kit and a manicure set. A beautifully bound New Testament and a folder of writing papers with pens, pencils and ink completed the contents.

  ‘You and your committee are to be congratulated, Eugenie. You have all excelled yourselves.’

  ‘Now if this meets with your approval we should begin to interview the girls before Christmas so that each trousseau can be completed on time. The ships must also be fitted out with extra supplies of bedding, crockery, cutlery and cooking utensils to give them all a good start with their home-making. The girls know how to read, do numbers, cook, sew and take care of children. They are also well taught in matters of the Catholic faith so they should make fine wives and mothers.’

  ‘Eugenie, you have found the perfect solution. And to have packed this complete trousseau into a sea chest – inspirational! Yes, we must proceed immediately by sending a sample of each trousseau to the various orphanages. I’d like to see at least twelve girls ready to sail by the end of March, next year.’ And so the plan began to move ahead.

  A buzz of excitement always filled Mater Dei in the weeks before Christmas. Many gifts were wrapped, thoughtfully provided by the benefactors, so every child would find something for themselves under the Christmas tree. Carols and hymns of the season were practiced for the midnight mass and the delicious scent of Christmas cakes and puddings wafted through the hallways. But the main source of excitement was a coming meeting, to be conducted by the Archbishop himself and Mother Germain. All of the girls who were sixteen years of age and over were requested to attend. Whatever could this be about?

  Finally the afternoon for the meeting arrived as the girls and Mother Germain, surrounded by many of the sisters gathered in the large chapter room. Seated in an armchair against the centre of the main wall sat the Archbishop, resplendent in his purple satin robes and skull cap. After Mother Germain greeted him and kissed his ring of office, all of the girls curtseyed in unison. Then the Archbishop of Paris rose and spoke to all of those present.

  ‘I have in my hands an invitation from the Emperor Napoleon III and Empress Eugenie. They are inviting all interested young girls to sail from France to the beautiful island of Grande Terre, far away in the Pacific Ocean. It is their wish that you would leave here to become brides, wives and mothers for the Glory of France and the Church.’

  Then the conditions were read aloud. Every girl was instructed to think and pray very carefully before she made her decision. Mother Germain would present him with a list of the volunteers on the third day after Christmas. The young girls were thunderstruck!

  ‘But before you leave the room we have a surprise for you. The Empress Eugenie has prepared a gift for each one of you who chooses to make the voyage.’

  Mother Germain went over to a sea chest displayed on a table nearby. She faced the girls and told them that each one would receive a trousseau for herself, just like this one. She then proceeded to unpack and display the entire contents of the chest, raising each exquisite item aloft for all to see. Gasps of amazement were heard filling the room together with cries of ‘Ooh,’ and ‘Ah,’ growing ever more frequent. When she had finished, Reverend Mother again told the girls they were to consider this offer very carefully and in the coming three days she would meet with those who wished to volunteer.

  ‘Remember that you will be leaving France for the rest of your lives, sailing on a journey toward marriage and motherhood. And it will not be easy. You will all experience happy events and great hardships. Parts of the island may even be dangerous. Feel free to discuss this with one another. Pray to Mother Mary and to your guardian angel. Sister Celeste will also answer all your questions as I know how fond you are of her. Now bow to the Archbishop and then you may leave.’

  A deep silence settled over the Mater Dei dining room during the dinner and continued into the evening. Small groups began to gather and discuss the events of the day with muted questions. Worries were shared. Excitement at the magnitude of this adventure was expressed, together with the future of becoming a wife and mother. After the lights were turned out they tossed and turned in their beds, barely able to sleep during that long night. As bright sunshine welcomed everyone the next morning, one by one each of the girls had arrived at her decision. After breakfast Louise, Jeanne and Clotilde found each other. Hugging they asked the question that could be heard on every pair of lips.

  ‘Will you be leaving?’

  ‘Yes, I am going to Grande Terre. I have no family here and if I leave I will have a chance to make a family of my own,’ Clotilde answered.

  ‘I am also leaving France for the Pacific Island,’ said Louise. ‘My days will be filled with excitement and adventure instead of all this dreary work and study.’

  ‘I will remain right here as I am happy at the orphanage and I hope one day to work in a fine house. Anyway, I’m afraid of the big open sea,’ Jeanne spoke firmly.

  One of the girls in a group of onlookers, named Satine, overheard the three and joined them.

  ‘I have also decided to make the long journey. Perhaps I will find someone there I could marry – one who would love me and make a home and family with me.’

  By the next afternoon three girls: Clotilde, Louise and Satine told Mother Germain that they would be happy and honoured to make the long journey to Grande Terre. There was much work to be finished and packing to be considered.

  Then finally in late March of 1865, the fateful day arrived for the young brides-to-be to say their tearful farewells and prepare to set sail. In all, nine young women presented themselves at portside, each to collect her personal trousseau and go aboard. The Grande Terre project h
ad achieved a small but successful beginning and over the coming years many more young French women would follow in the footsteps of these first courageous travellers. No one was happier though than Louis Napoleon and Eugenie. After all, it was her thoughtful plan and ‘woman’s touch’ that had saved Grande Terre and its vast nickel deposits for the glory of France.

  III

  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.’