Bride of New France by Suzanne Desrochers Page B

water of Canada. Heeventually bloats up and dies. Marguerite buries him as best she can, but the wretched island beasts dig up his body. They drag it past her in their fierce mouths trying to shake her faith now that she is alone, but for the comfort of her Bible.
    “But Marguerite persevered with her prayers and songs in exaltation of God. She fed her body meagre portions of whatever roots and fruits she found on the island, and her spirit drank in the results of her prayers. In the spring a ship came for her. She was brought back to France and introduced to the Queen.”
    Laure takes Madeleine’s hand in hers. “The girl in the story is like you. She was brave and loyal and believed above all else that God would look after the couple in their time of need.”
    By the time Laure finishes telling Madeleine the story, there is only silence around them in the hospital. The madwomen have been calmed for the night, the officers and governesses retired to their rooms. A few minutes later, when Laure thinks that she is the only one left awake in the room, Madeleine takes her hand and whispers in her ear.
    “I will join you in your banishment. Tomorrow, let’s talk to Madame du Clos and Madame Gage to see if I can come with you to Canada.”

    8    
    T he sixty or so girls leaving Paris for Canada hear Mass in the chapel of the Salpêtrière at three o’clock on the morning of their departure. Laure and Madeleine are the only girls leaving from the Sainte-Claire dormitory. Madame Gage came to get them from their bed and whispered for them to follow her out to the main hallway where the other girls were gathered. Dozens of others have been recruited from the less reputable dormitories. None of the women look much older than thirty, although most seem older than Laure and Madeleine. Some of their faces are meek and dull as if they are still asleep, while others are filled with the wide-eyed rage of the slightly mad. Laure and Madeleine try to avoid meeting their eyes. All share a fear of the tremendous journey that lies ahead.
    At four o’clock, following the Mass, the women trudge in silence along the same river path Laure took to get to the Hôtel-Dieu. A brigade of archers, some on horseback, follows them, making the journey feel like a prison escort. Just south of the Bièvre Bridge, they meet up with about thirty more girls from la Pitié. The governesses from the Salpêtrière who haveaccompanied them have given them strict orders to stay away from these filles de mauvaise vie . A few of the Pitié girls are weeping, but most stand waiting with stoic faces and don’t look very different from the Salpêtrière convoy, although these women are all chained together at the waist like prostitutes.
    It takes a long time for the men to prepare the barge on the Seine that will take the girls down the river to Rouen and beyond to the port at Le Havre, where they will board the ship to Canada. There is much shouting and shifting of supplies as they work to secure the load. The whole time the men scramble from the pier to the boat, heaving food for their journey and their marriage coffers onto the barge. The girls are ordered to remain quiet.
    Laure wonders why they are leaving so early in the morning, why there is so much secrecy behind their departure, and why nobody wants to speak to them about the trip to Canada. The officers from the Salpêtrière and from la Pitié, many of whom Laure has not seen before, say they don’t know anything about crossing the seas, about living in Canada—that it is men and foreigners who do these things. One of the girls in the line, with a vicious face and scraggly hair, says that they have been given something worse than a death sentence. An archer orders her to be quiet.
    Over an hour passes before the girls can finally board. It is May and still quite cold before the sun rises, especially when rain begins to fall in a cold mist over them. As they step onto the barge, the officers