I have never come across a list of the various places in France where the settlers in New France originated. That story is a complicated one, not at all clear to me, involving urban over-crowding, getting the new Protestant rebels, the Huguenots, out of the country, and most obviously, seeking workers skilled draining salt marshes such as could be found in Brittany.<\/p>\n
In this post, and the next one, I want to introduce you to my maternal ancestors – the Gaudets and the Poiriers –\u00a0 by means of genealogical charts made with Ancestry software.<\/strong><\/p>\n This chart, which I hope is reasonably accurate, of the most recent five generations, will give you an idea of the long continuity of this branch of the Gaudets. When the chart is extended (which I cannot do usefully in this format), it goes back fourteen generations to the end of the Middle Ages in France.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Isidore was remembered as the patriarch of the family, and the first of his line to obtain land rights in Lot 1 in the later Nineteenth Century. His fifty acres, quite close to Tignish, was a modest holding where he would not have done more than subsistence farming with a little produce and hay to sell or trade for the other necessities of life. They were not prosperous nor, it seems from family stories, ambitious.<\/p>\n (I am not certain that this is his image. It could be a photo of his son, Joseph Isidore.)<\/p>\n <\/p>\n He was my grandfather\u2019s father and so my mother\u2019s grandfather. He was half-Scottish as Isidore had married Charlotte Harper (1834-1936) who was born on April 16, 1834, in Prince Edward Island. Her father, Louis Guillaume (William) Harper, was born on February 9, 1793, in Quebec City and his father, Louis Harper was born in 1760 in Banff, Banffshire, Scotland. Charlotte married Isidore Gaudet on January 19, 1858, bringing Scottish blood into this Acadian family. They had five children during their marriage. She died on November 1, 1926, in Tignish, at the age of 92. My grandmother, Marie Blanche Gaudet, remembered Charlotte clearly, and could imitate her accent when she spoke French. Charlotte even learned the traditional French songs popular in the family, and so powerful was imitation in the learning and passing on of these songs in those days of oral tradition that the singer’s accent was sometimes adopted as well as the words and tune. My grandmother sang her Charlotte Harper French songs with an English\/Scottish accent.<\/p>\n My mother remembered quite a bit about Joseph Isidore Gaudet and his ways. He imagined himself perhaps as a man of leisure, and lacking ambition and drive, saw his inheritance of 50 acres shrivel to 4 by the time the Cummins ATLAS was produced in the 1920s. He was not fond of work, and before his eyes, he saw his property and home fall apart. Some winters were so cold, and the family without firewood, that Joseph Isidore tore off the door and window mouldings in the house to burn as firewood, and in the end, the interior doors were chopped up.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Bit my bit he sold his land to his prosperous land-owning neighbour, Pierre \u00e0 Maximin Chiasson, all the while resenting his neighbour\u2019s success and relative wealth. This is what he stared at resentfully, down a long lane, across the road from where his house stood. It was still standing in my youth.<\/p>\n Pierre \u00e0 Maximin Chiasson property, circa 1899.<\/p>\n Joseph Isidore was a very kind man, and my mother loved him. She was born in 1918 and so knew him for the first 21 years of her life. He was a member of the church choir and loved Gregorian Chant. Every day, seven days a week, he would go to Mass and sing the Liturgy of the Day with other men in the choir. Then, if that had not been enough, he would come home, and sometimes from memory, would sing for his exasperated family the entire mass of the day. They wanted bread, not Gloria in excelsis Deo<\/em>. When I was a choirboy, and because of the memory of Joseph Isidore, I was expected now and then to sing parts of the Mass from memory, especially when his daughter Mary visited from Rhode Island. One day, while rooting in the organ loft at church, I came across several old leather-bound hymnals, one of which had my great grandfather\u2019s name written in it. It was well thumbed with greasy fingers but was very beautiful. I still have it and it is one of my prized possessions.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n When Joseph Isidore Gaudet was born on May 22, 1859, in Tignish, his father, Isidore, was 25 and his mother, Charlotte, was 25. He married Mary Elizabeth Bernard on February 17, 1890, in his hometown. Mary Elizabeth Bernard was born on January 17, 1859, in Tignish. Her father, Thomas, was 33, and her mother, Domithilde, was 34.<\/p>\n Joseph Isidore and Mary Elizabeth had five children, four of which I knew, and in some cases even loved.<\/p>\n Charles Joseph (April 20, 1891 – November 28, 1960). <\/p>\n Joseph Isidore died on March 19, 1939, in Providence, Rhode Island, USA, at the age of 79. Mary Elizabeth died in January 1927 in Tignish at the age of 68. Around 1960 a locally made cement gravestone was placed in the Gaudet plot in the Tignish cemetery. Next to it is one dedicated to Marie Blanche’s nine children who were all born, and died, in Joseph Isidore’s house.<\/p>\n Photo courtesy of Stephen Keane<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n The first was my Uncle Jerry, baptised Jerome. He was an extremely talented fiddler, and later, mandolin player, and was in great demand from an early age. He was an extremely handsome \u2013 beautiful \u2013 young man, and on the back of this picture postcard taken perhaps around 1910, somebody had written \u201cJerry Gaudet the best fiddler on PE Island.\u201d<\/p>\n A terrible catastrophe befell him in his teens when, fooling around with his slightly older brother Charlie, flying through the fields, and jumping over fences, his leg got caught and he broke his knee. There was no doctor and there was no money. No one straightened his leg and over time the break healed leaving his leg permanently bent at the knee.<\/p>\n At the beginning of his beautiful life, he became an unemployable cripple and made his own peg leg which he is seen here wearing while talking to his neighbour from across the road, Pierre \u00e0 Maximin Chiasson. In these early years he was deft at getting around without a crutch or cane.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n How quickly he aged, living in perpetual pain. He decided to become a cobbler and a little shed was moved to the edge of his father\u2019s property, opposite the lane leading to Mr. Chiasson\u2019s house, and there he made his home until his father\u2019s death at the beginning of the war.<\/p>\n Uncle Jerry had a great love of animals and liked to study their ways. He fed the birds and when he could lure a squirrel to his hand, he put him in a carefully constructed cage with toys and a treadmill.<\/p>\n Early in the war when the family home burned down Jerry moved to Tignish in what I was told was an old railway boxcar moved down to the bottom of what is now Sunset Drive where the Royal Canadian legion is located. Indeed, after Jerry\u2019s death in 1958 the building may have become the temporary home of the Legion. There he lived alone in the back half of the building while his cobbler\u2019s shop was in the front half. Everybody for miles around brought their shoes to be repaired and resoled.<\/p>\n Uncle Jerry’s tools, now in the Acadian Museum at Miscouche<\/p>\n One wall was covered completely with shelves of unclaimed shoes and boots that had accumulated over the years. Jerry worked next to a window facing the street, at his little bench that held all the tools of his trade: his anvil, awl, two needles, thread with a lump of tar to waterproof it, boxes of nails and tacks, a tack lifting tool, and a special hammer and a cobbler\u2019s sewing machine. There was a bottle of leather glue that was very aromatic, and which competed with the other smells in that shop of fragrant thick sole leather hides, tar, and horse shit still on the farmers boots.<\/p>\n I used to love to visit him and sit on the stool next to his worktable and watch him rebuild shoes and boots. It all fascinated me, and I was full of questions which he answered. Most of the time, with his deep-lined face that had not seen a razor for days, he sat hunched over his work. He always had a smile for me, and sometimes a gift of five cents. My grandmother, who loathed all her husband\u2019s family, would, from time to time, grudgingly send him a loaf of her delicious bread. Although he let me handle his precious fiddle and the beautifully inlaid mandolin, he never played for me. But I heard, about once a year, his magical playing, full of passion, but that will be described in another post.<\/p>\n My old friend Leo Gaudet recently reminded me that Uncle Jerry used to mend the Tignish baseballs as they came apart at the seams. Patiently he would sew with his curved needle the joints where the various bits of leather that covered the balls had come apart. He hated doing that work but the players always came back to him to pester him to do another repair.<\/p>\n When he died, I was devastated as he was the only member of my entire family that I truly loved. I was a choirboy and sang at his funeral, and accompanied his body to the grave, where with the other boys I sang the Latin liturgy for commitment to the ground.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Isidore was born in his father’s house near Tignish on September 22, 1896. He lived there for his first 18 years with his siblings, and also his brother Charlie whose wife Marie Blanche already had two children. It was a crowded house.<\/p>\n Here is the handsome Isidore shortly after he enlisted to fight in World War I. He was only 18 in 1914.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n We don’t know if he enlisted or was drafted to fight in World War I. Photographic evidence preserved by his sister Mary indicates that Isidore became a German prisoner of war. He is seen here, in the front row, kneeling on the right, carrying the little German all-purpose eating utensils called a henkelmann, from\u00a0 which one can eat or cook.\u00a0 The original photo is very tiny – only about two square inches – and must have been taken and distributed by a German soldier.<\/p>\n Here is a close-up detail of Isidore from that group photo.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Isidore may have owed his life to having been imprisoned as he was one of the few who returned.\u00a0After some travel to see his siblings in the US Isidore appears to have settled down in Saint John in the early 1920s. Official records place him there in 1922. At present we have no idea what he did for the next 20 years<\/strong>. This photo, taken in those years, shows him respectably dressed with his youthful good looks still intact.<\/p>\n Isidore circa 1930-40. Photo courtesy Stephen Keane Collection<\/p>\n There are two fine portraits of Uncle Isidore that were preserved by his sister Mary. Brother and sister were very close. These were handed down to my family and date from the 1920-40 period.<\/p>\n Isidore and his sister Mary.<\/p>\n R. Porter Collection.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n At the beginning of World War II Isidore met a lovely woman in Saint John who would become his partner for the rest of his life. They had four children. She was called Helen Beatrice (Condon) Kelley (May 9, 1900 – August 28 1985), <\/strong>and had recently been abandoned by her husband, leaving her with another four children.<\/p>\n Photo courtesy of Lynn Doherty, Isidore’s grand daughter.<\/p>\n Over the years Isidore’s family in Saint John grew and it is a great sadness that we never made contact or even discovered anything about them. Charlie’s wife made this impossible and it was a painful issue that hovered between them. My deeply religious grandmother, Marie Blanche, never forgave her brother in law for cohabiting with a Protestant woman. She never knew the circumstances of Isidore’s relationship with this abandoned woman who could not marry him as there was no legal divorce.<\/p>\n Recently, through Ancestry.ca, I came in contact with one of Isidore’s grand daughters, Lynn Doherty, who preserves her family’s traditions. She provided me with new photographs and for the first time in my life I have been able to form a picture of Uncle Isidore’s Saint John environment.<\/p>\n This is a very happy photo of the entire family taken at Christmas circa 1949. It is a complicated one because it contains not only Isidore’s family with Helen Beatrice, but the children from a previous failed marriage with John F. Kelley. These were Earle, Helen, Ronald and Bernard. Isidore’s children with Helen Beatrice are Gerald, Norbert (Newt) and Shirley.<\/p>\n Photo courtesy of Lynn Doherty [insert description of Helen Beatrice]<\/p>\n With this new information it has been possible to create an update of Isidore’s family tree, incorporating not only his ancestors, but the family of his heart in Saint John, NB.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Isidore died when he fell off a railroad bridge in Saint John harbour when he was taking a shortcut home one winter night in January of 1955. His body was found on the ice, embalmed, and shipped to Tignish on the train. He was waked in our tiny back room, and in mountains of snow and freshly dug frozen earth, with the choir, I sang the Liturgy of the Dead while his body was lowered into the grave. A few years later a cement tombstone was made by a local maker and this pitiful memento of a most interesting life is all that survives of Isidore on the island today.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Angeline and Ernest, from a group photo.<\/p>\n Angeline whom we called Aunt Angie (May 17, 1895 – April 25, 1974), married Ernest J. Gaudet (1893-1988) and, like so many other at that time, they moved to New England for a better life.<\/p>\n Ernest J Gaudet was born on September 10, 1893, in Tignish. His father, Pierre-Urbain, was 35 and his mother, Mary, was 29. He married Marie Angeline Gaudet on February 29, 1916, in his hometown. They had 9 children in 19 years. He died on June 27, 1988, at the age of 94, and was buried in Cranston, Rhode Island, USA.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n My American cousins, descendants of Angie and Ernest, have done extensive genealogical research on their family and have provided me with copies of their charts. I have never had the opportunity to discuss this subject with the only American relative with whom I am in touch – Stephen Keane – who with his wife manage all these family records.\u00a0 When time permits I will sort through this material and list their children with their dates.<\/p>\n From time-to-time copies of pictures have made their way to my mother or her sister May, such as this one showing Aunt Angie in 1936 with her daughter Rita, whom I met as a child, and later in the 1980s when she visited Tignish.<\/p>\n Angeline and Ernest had a large family of nine children, and when I was a small boy in the early 1950s two of their girls Rita and Patsy, visited Tignish and were full of light, laughter, and pure charm in our domestic environment of doom and depression. I remember the wild extravagance of their beautiful loafers, which I had never seen before, with coins inserted in the slots.<\/p>\n Every year Aunt Angie and Uncle Ernest would come to Tignish to visit their relatives, and there would always be a visit, usually for a family meal, at our house. The conversation was highly animated with Aunt Angie and my grandmother Marie Blanche sorting out some event of the past and Uncle Ernie, who had a powerful voice, jumping in to make his views known.<\/p>\n The last time I ever saw \u2013 and heard – Aunt Angie and Uncle Ernie was late one afternoon when I dropped by just as supper was finished and conversation at the table was heating up. It was August 16, 1966. I was sitting to one side in the stairwell and had with me the small tape recorder I used to collect folklore. Surreptiously, I turned it on and captured the whole conversation. There were tales of the evil eye where one look was enough to break dishes in your cupboard. And there were haunted houses. Alphonse \u00e0 Joe Madeleine (whose daughter Charlie\u2019s son Gerard married) would tell the story of sleeping at a certain house and repeatedly having the bedclothes town off his bed while he slept. He escaped in terror through a window. And Ernie told of haunted woods where an invisible presence followed close behind until, in terror, he ran home and hid under his bed.<\/p>\n This generation was full of such stories, many of which I heard at that time in my life \u2013 I was 23 – when my passion for folklore was at its height. These stories and perceptions were an important part of their lives and filtered the way they perceived the world around them. They were reality, not fantasy. It was an integral part of everyday life that has disappeared in our culture today, except among aboriginals, where ancient ways of experiencing the world are still alive.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Detail from a family group photo.<\/p>\n Mary Gaudet (<\/strong>September 8, 1899 – July 6, 1991) was born in Tignish. Her father Joseph Isidore was 40, and her mother, Mary, was also 40. The earliest image we have of Mary is a group photo of her First Communion class, probably dating from 1907 or \u201908. Sadly, a break in the photo runs across Mary\u2019s face. Seated with them was their beloved parish priest, Fr. Dugald MacDonald.<\/p>\n When Catholics looked back on family history, along with the other major anniversaries and celebrations enjoyed by the rest of the world, they were aware\u2013 at least to the middle of the Twentieth Century \u2013 of their First Communion and Confirmation events, when, dressed their best, the boys and girls were received into the Church as full members, trained and anointed to begin, with full knowledge of their actions, the road to Salvation. Their life behaviour had been defined by inflexible rules, and many followed most of those ancient precepts all their lives.<\/p>\n In 1927, when she was also 27, Mary went to New England, like so many others, to look for work in the factories. She was just under the line before the great crash of 1929 put an end to emigration. She became an American citizen, like so many Islanders who sought a new life in that richer world, and spent most of her life in Providence, Rhode Island. Not a great beauty, she nevertheless was a most attractive person, full to the brim with wit, kindness, and generosity. Mary never married.<\/p>\n She was a great mimic and could do convulsively funny imitations of the people in her world. She also liked to dress up and here is a picture of her as Charlie Chaplin, taken after she had moved to the US.<\/p>\n Aunt Mary came home to visit for one week every summer, and she stayed with her brother Charlie, my grandfather. Her arrival was heralded by frantic house cleaning and her bedroom \u2013 the best in the house and reserved exclusively for visitors from away \u2013 was freshened up and the bed covered with crisp sheets and special quilts, made by my grandmother, glowed in their splendour on the bed.<\/p>\n It is probable that the cloth for those quilts came to us in huge boxes of many things gathered by Aunt Mary in the textile factory where she worked and then sent to Tignish. It is possible that these significant acts of kindness began during the Great Depression and most certainly intensified when the Gaudet house in Tignish burned down, right after the death of Joseph Isidore.<\/p>\n To jump ahead for a moment, these boxes arrived regularly in my childhood, and at Christmas an eagerly \u2013 wildly \u2013 awaited-for box would come from Rhode Island. It was wrapped in heavy brown paper, tied up in a cage of heavy cord where every joint and knot was covered in red sealing wax. The presents inside were wrapped in papers such as we had never seen \u2013 rich and brilliant \u2013 and the contents were carefully chosen. For me it was always clothing, the likes of which could not be found in Tignish.<\/p>\n Aunt Mary was beloved by my mother and her sisters, and I too adored her. She sent special cards and a prayer book for my First Communion and I still treasure there relics. She is the only member of the Gaudet family of that generation with whom I corresponded.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Charles-Gaudet-family-300x189.jpg\")
<\/p>\nIsidore Gaudet (1834-1894) <\/strong><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Joseph-Isidore-Gaudet-205x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\nHis son,<\/strong> Joseph Isidore Gaudet (1860-1939).<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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<\/p>\nThe Family of Joseph Isidore<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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<\/p>\n
\nJerome Joseph (January 31, 1893 – June 16, 1958).
\nMarie Angeline (May 17, 1895 – April 25, 1974)
\nIsidore (September 22, 1896 – January 1955).
\nMary (September 8, 1899 – July 6, 1972)<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Gaudet-tombstones-Tignish-d-300x139.jpg\")
<\/p>\nJerome (January 31, 1893 – June 16, 1958).<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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<\/p>\nIsidore (1896 – 1955).<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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<\/p>\n
\nFront Row: Shirley Kelley, Helen Beatrice Kelley and Gerry Kelley.
\nBack Row: Isidore, Earle, Norbert, Helen, Ronald, Donald and Bernard.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Helen-Congdon-Kelley-chart-300x160.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Isidore-Gaudet-1896-1955-283x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\nMarie Angeline (1895 – 1974)<\/strong><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Angie-and-Ernest-c-1918-300x287.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/1936-Aunt-Angie-and-Rita-201x300.jpg\")
<\/p>\nMary (1899 – 1991)<\/strong><\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/regportersstory.com\/pei\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/09\/Aunt-Mary-c-1915-200x300.jpg\")
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<\/p>\nCharles Joseph (<\/strong>1891 – 1960).<\/strong><\/h2>\n
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