The finale of our three part series on the life and times of James Johnstone. Follow the Chevalier de Johnstone’s escapades in Cape Breton from 1756 through to 1758 and see how this Scotsman’s memoirs tell the long forgotten stories of Cape Breton’s past.  

SHOWNOTES – 

MUSIC: 

TRANSCRIPT

1. July, 1756. [a 2 second pause] The Chevalier de Johnstone stands on the deck of a French merchant ship anchored in Menadou Bay, some twenty kilometres up the weather-beaten coast from the colonial capital of Louisbourg. Despite the distinct sense of panic and frantic disorder aboard the ship, Johnstone’s eyes are fixed on the entrance of the bay and the open water of the North Atlantic beyond. 

2. The merchant ship had sought refuge in the bay after having been chased by four British warships a few days earlier. The government in Louisbourg had dispatched 50 soldiers – including Johnstone – to protect the ship, and after marching overland, they were now finally aboard. But it seemed only a matter of time before those warships, now hovering off shore, would enter the harbour and confiscate the French ship, the goods it carried and everyone aboard. It would mean that the French crew would become prisoners, but for Johnstone, an exiled Scotsman that had fought against the British in the Jacobite Uprising of 1745, it would likely mean his arrest and execution. 

3. But just when Johnstone had accepted the inevitable and everything seemed lost, the four British warships set as much canvas as they could and abruptly sped off southwards towards the horizon. No one could figure out why they had simply up and left, until about an hour later when four French warships bearing down from the north raced past Menadou in close pursuit of the British. The merchant ship stuck in Menadou was finally free, and The Chevalier de Johnstone – once again – had evaded capture by the skin of his teeth.  

4. This is The Lost World of Cape Breton Island. We continue the story of the Chevalier de Johnstone and the writings that he left behind, which contain some of the most vivid depictions of life in Cape Breton during the 1750s that are currently available. 

5. The events that took place in Menadou in July 1756 were recorded by Johnstone in the document entitled “The Campaign of Louisbourg, 1750-58”. While preparing for this episode, a map depicting this very same event was found to have been included in the 1871 edition of Johnstone’s memoirs, translated by Charles Winchester. At the time of its printing, it was mislabeled as a map that supposedly depicted Bonnie Prince Charlie’s 1745 arrival in Scotland, but the clearly marked “Scatarie Island” tells us that this is actually a map of the Menadou area drawn by Johnstone over 250 years ago. Noteworthy are the dwellings that Johnstone depicts on Scaterie, and the single house located on the shores of Menadou bay – likely one of the houses owned by the Carrerot family, a prominent merchant family in Louisbourg. A road or path ran from the harbour to the cape known today as Moque’s Head [pronounced like Moke’s], where Johnstone says the French had built a vedette to keep an eye out for danger. 

6. To get to Menadou, it’s possible Johnstone and the other soldiers took the Chemin de Louisbourg à La Baleine, or the “Louisbourg to Baleine Road.” This road was built during the 1730s to service the needs of the people living in outports east of Louisbourg harbour like Lorembec and La Baleine, as well as larger properties such as the one owned by engineer and cartographer Pierre-Jerome Boucher. By the 1750s, the road was in such a state of disrepair that at certain places travelers could sink up to their knees in the marsh. Despite its condition, this road has remained in almost constant use from the time it was built to today, and much of the original French road has been incorporated into the Louisbourg Main À Dieu Road which meets Highway 22 just north of the modern town of Louisbourg. It is one of the oldest roads still in use in Nova Scotia and perhaps in all of Canada.

7. Great Britain officially declared war on France on the 17th of May 1756, the French in turn on June 9th. But in the Maritime region, hostilities between the British and French had already been under way for about a year – the British had attacked and captured the French “Fort Beausejour” in the Chignecto area in 1755, and then began the systematic removal of the Acadian population from the entire region. The same year, British warships had also begun a tight blockade of the port of Louisbourg, intercepting and capturing many merchant ships similar to the one Johnstone had found himself aboard in Menadou. Life on Cape Breton Island, which was greatly dependent on these kinds of regular oversea shipments, would become all the more challenging as a result. Historian A.J.B. Johnston aptly describes the situation in the book Endgame 1758  – “Livestock was not going to be coming from the Acadian villages of mainland Nova Scotia and the Chignecto region. Those settlements no longer existed, their populations either removed or in flight. By 1755, with war all but declared, New England finally ceased to be an important trading partner for Île Royale. A succession of bad harvests in Canada meant that there was no “surplus” food to send provisions to the sister colony on Cape Breton Island. Canadian harvests would become “progressively worse” in 1756, 1757, and 1758, thereby increasing Louisbourg’s predicament and that of the rest of New France.” It’s perhaps at this time that Johnstone begins to complain about the “rancid salt-butter and bad oil” that he had no choice but to eat, and bemoan the fact that no one could “have a morsel of fresh meat at any price.” Rice was even being added to the population’s rations to make up for the lack of flour. But the people of Louisbourg and Cape Breton carried on the best way they could despite the hardships.

8. Summer slipped slowly into autumn, and the first snowfall announced the coming of the new year – 1757. It’s at this time that two names from Johnstone’s memoirs resurface in correspondence from Louisbourg – The Chevalier de Montalembert and the Chevalier de Trion. Montalembert and Trion were cousins who had recently been ordered to Louisbourg who Johnstone had befriended while crossing the Atlantic together in 1750. After arriving, Montalembert married a local girl from a respected military family, Marie-Charlotte Chassin de Thierry – but things would take a very dark turn, to be played out in front of the entire town of Louisbourg. A letter written back in 1755 and preserved in Les Derniers Jours de l’Acadie explains the situation – 

9. “M. de Montalembert has just married Mlle Chassin de Thierry. The rumour has it that she does not love him. Yesterday they dined with M. Drucourt [the governor], his wife wept all through the meal: her behaviour was most out of place and would hardly have been tolerated in a child of ten. I am assured that upon leaving the Governor’s house, Montalembert wished to take his wife’s hand and that she refused it scornfully. It is believed that she had more of a taste for a captain from [the] Bourgogne [regiment], called Desmaille, than for Montalembert.”

10. The situation deteriorated further. Excerpts from two letters dated May 1757 bring us up to speed.

11. “It is with great pain that I inform you of the sad destiny of poor Montalembert. Since a month ago, no-one knows where he is; he has been sought everywhere, the woods of the Miré [river] have been beaten by detachments and by Indians without a single trace of him being found.”

“He … left Mme Thierry’s house on a Wednesday, with his gun. He took the road to Miré… For some months he has been most unlike himself because of the sorrows that his wife caused him. Not content with mistreating him in many ways, she conducted a flirtation with a land officer in a positively public manner. That unfortunate woman has ruined him.”

12. “When they believed him to be lost, they sent M. Trion to see if he wasn’t at the habitation of Mr. de Raymond. Trion did not find him.” “The poor Chevalier de Trion, deeply affected by the death of his relative, searched the woods high and low without success. He is in a pitiable state.”

13. Tragically, the body of the Chevalier de Montalembert was discovered in a river or lake three months after he was first reported missing. The official report said that he had drowned, but most everyone who was aware of the situation believed that he had taken his own life. The body was brought back to Louisbourg and buried. Unless exhumed by archaeologists or destroyed by coastal erosion, the body of the Chevalier de Montalembert likely remains interred somewhere among the ruins of Louisbourg to this day. Marie-Charlotte, Montalembert’s wife, would die around 7 years later in French Guiana at the age of 27 or 28 after her and her family were removed from Cape Breton in the wake of the second siege of Louisbourg. 

14. It seems that Johnstone knew everyone involved in this sad story, but for some reason makes no mention of it in his writings. We can only speculate as to why Johnstone never bothered to mention what happened to his acquaintances while at the same time mentioning many others and their difficulties by name. The tragedy of Montalembert exemplifies the kinds of stories that were lost after the fall of Louisbourg in 1758 and only rediscovered once historical documentation was published over a century after the events.

15. This unfortunate episode played out against the backdrop of another more immediate crisis – the possibility of an attack on the Fortress of Louisbourg by British forces. But the summer months of 1757 came and went, and it became apparent that the British weren’t going to be able to mount a major assault on the fortress that year. Many knew, however, that it was only a matter of time – perhaps only months – before they would make a second attempt. At this point sometime at the end of 1757 or near the beginning of 1758 we find Johnstone, not on Cape Breton Island, but actually on Île Saint Jean, known today as Prince Edward Island. In a letter written to the French Secretary of the Navy sometime in the late 1770s, Johnstone explains that the company he belonged to had been sent to garrison Ile Saint Jean, and considering his close call in Menadou and the looming threat of an attack on Louisbourg, this was likely a very welcome turn of events for him. To add fuel to the fire, Johnstone had also found out that some of the British regiments involved in this possible attack on Louisbourg had been prisoners of the Jacobites during the Rebellion in Scotland, meaning that were he ever to remain in Cape Breton and be captured by the British, he would be recognized almost instantaneously.

 16. The long anticipated assault on Louisbourg began in June 1758, and the town surrendered about a month and a half later on July 26. Cape Breton Island as well as Ile Saint Jean were handed over to the British in the terms of capitulation signed by the French at Louisbourg, and Johnstone explains – “Not wishing to be the prisoner of the same regiments who had been our prisoners in Scotland,” says Johnstone, “I made my escape to Nova Scotia, and thence into Canada.” Johnstone continues – “Having obtained a boat with fifty Canadians at Miramichi, in Nova Scotia, to conduct to Quebec fourteen English prisoners, who were land-officers, and captains of merchants’ ships, I set out with them without delay.” But despite being over 200 kilometres west of Louisbourg, it turned out that Johnstone was much closer to danger than he had previously thought. He continues – “On entering the gulf of St. Laurence we perceived the English squadron, which instantly gave chase to us; and we only escaped their frigates by running into one of the little ports, of which there are a great many along that coast.” Incidentally, the British officer tasked with the takeover of Île Saint Jean after the surrender of Louisbourg was none other than Scotsman Andrew Rollo of Clan Rollo, the brother of the very man who had married Johnstone’s sister. In all likelihood, Johnstone and Rollo had crossed paths in Scotland before the beginning of the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745. And although it’s impossible to know if this had been orchestrated deliberately in an attempt to finally apprehend Johnstone, the coincidence is striking, to say the least. In the end, Johnstone was long gone before Rollo and his forces ever set foot on Ile Saint Jean. 

17. Johnstone evaded the British ships in the gulf of St Lawrence and made it to Quebec sometime during the late spring or early summer of 1758, bringing his 8 year sojourn in the Maritime region to an end. He would summarize his experience in Cape Breton this way – “At length the capture of Louisbourg in 1758, released me from a purgatory, in which I was subject to evils of every kind.” In Quebec, the intendant of New France, Francois Bigot, who was later blamed for the fall of Canada, kindly provided Johnstone with a new set of clothing, since Johnstone says that he left his garments back in Louisbourg. By 1759, Johnstone was serving as the Chevalier de Levis’ aide-de-camp, and then when Levis headed south to Montreal, was kept on in the same capacity by the commander-in-chief of French forces in Canada, the Marquis de Montcalm. Johnstone’s time in Canada soon proved to be as turbulent and chaotic as the final days of the colony itself – he would move from Montmorency Falls north of Quebec City to Fort Carillon on Lake Champlain, scarcely getting more than, in his own words, “an hour’s sleep in the four and twenty”. By September 1760, after the French had suffered defeat after defeat, Johnstone took refuge with the rest of the army in Montreal, the last vestige of unconquered New France.

 18. We now return to the very beginning of our three part episode on the Chevalier de Johnstone – the Governor of New France has just signed the terms of capitulation, British troops have entered the city, and not long after there is a mysterious knock at Johnstone’s door. A British soldier dressed in a scarlet uniform stands before him. “Do I have the honour of speaking to Mr Johnstone?” Asks the British soldier brusquely. Johnstone freezes. After nearly 15 years on the run, had the Chevalier de Johnstone finally been captured? Was this his arrest? Johnstone hesitates, but finally answers “yes, I’m Johnstone; who do I have the honour of speaking with?” To Johnstone’s surprise, the soldier also introduces himself as “Johnstone”. The soldier explains that he is a relative of his, and he has come to offer Johnstone his personal protection until the Chevalier can arrange transportation back to France. The future British governor, General James Murray, had even given his approval to this arrangement, telling Johnstone’s relative that he quote “had long known that [the Chevalier de Johnstone] was in Canada” and that if  “[Johnstone] did not seek [him], he would not seek [Johnstone]” unquote. General Murray also sent Johnstone his greetings. (2 second pause for effect) And so after 15 years on the run and after having escaped Scotland, England, Cape Breton and Ile Saint Jean, he would now also walk away from Canada a free man.

19. After one final Atlantic crossing – the last one he’ll ever make – Johnstone disembarks somewhere around La Rochelle, France on December 5th, 1760. He writes that upon setting foot on French soil, he promptly finds himself a restaurant, sits down and orders a bottle of white wine and a plate of oysters. We can imagine him looking out the window of the restaurant at the people and carriages passing by, likely in the same clothes he left Canada in, while his thoughts drift back over the last 10 years of his life abroad. Unfortunately, his memoirs conclude only a couple paragraphs after his meal of white wine and oysters, and it’s at this point that we begin to lose track of Johnstone. We know that once he returned to France, he promptly left the army, rented a house in Paris, and as late as 1791, then in his 70s, was petitioning France’s new revolutionary government to reimburse him for losses incurred during the Jacobite Rebellion half a century prior. Apart from a trip to take care of some family business, Johnstone lived the rest of his days in exile in France and would never permanently return to Scotland. Besides his personal memoirs and The Campaign of Louisbourg 1750-58, Johnstone would also write a work entitled A Dialogue in Hades (pronounced Hay Deez) and also The Campaign of 1760 in Canada, both relating to his experiences in Canada during the Seven Years War. Apart from these generic facts, nothing more is known about the rest of Johnstone’s life – whether he married or stayed single, whether he had kids or not, or whether he ever sat down to have his portrait taken before he passed away around the year 1800. Like a broken clock, Johnstone’s life seems to have stopped dead the second he returned to France in 1760.

20. Summing up who James Johnstone was as an individual is no easy task. One could rightfully describe him as critical, cynical or abrasive. Someone else might call him “Cavalier”, perhaps as a result of his aristocratic upbringing. Historian T.A. Crowley refers to him as “egocentric” and “timid.” As is the case, though, with many historical figures, Johnstone’s true character might only ever be understood by those who actually lived at the same time and who experienced the same things as he did, and not by those of us now looking back from the 21st century. Speaking as the creators of this project, we feel that Johnstone is one of the most interesting people to have ever lived on Cape Breton Island. 

21. It’s hard to imagine what Johnstone would think if, somehow, he ever found out what would become of Cape Breton after his death. The irony that the very place that made him feel like an outsider would become not just a new home for his own people but also a beacon of Scottish and Gaelic culture during the 19th century is hard to ignore. Or what he’d think if he were told that Cape Breton Island, according to him “the most wretched country in the universe” would be ranked one of the best islands in the entire world for tourism and leisure. Or what he’d say if he were told that a part of the French town of Louisbourg would, in two hundred years time, be reconstructed according to its original 18th century plans for educational purposes. Whatever he might say, we can say one thing for sure – he’d certainly have an opinion. 

22. Although it was never his intention, the Chevalier de Johnstone reconstructs for us the lives of people long gone, gives us an opportunity to walk the roads that no longer exist, and allows us to experience long forgotten moments that now shape the very essence of Cape Breton Island’s identity. [END]