Marie Anne Lagimodiere
The Incredible Story of Louis Riel's Grandmother
AUTHOR: Irene Gordon
FORMAT: 5.5 x 8.5 pb / 112 pages
ISBN-10: 1-55153-967-5
ISBN-13: 9781551539676
Marie-Anne Lagimodière was a force to be reckoned with. Her honeymoon was a four-month journey from Quebec to Pembina with a brigade of tough voyageurs. She criss-crossed Canada with her fur trader husband during the early 1800s. Her legacy is enormous. Within 10 years of her death, at the ripe old age of 95, she already had more than 630 direct descendants including Louis Riel, the Métis leader.
Prologue
Marie-Anne and her friend Marguerite Bellegarde were alone in camp except for the baby. Jean-Baptiste and Charles would not be back from visiting their snares until evening. It was a hot July afternoon along the banks of North Saskatchewan River. The only sounds heard were the buzzing of insects and occasional bird song. The women sat in companionable silence in the shade of some willows - Marie-Anne repairing the torn hem of a dress and Marguerite patching one of Charles' shirts.
Suddenly the sound of galloping horses disturbed the silence. Marguerite put a finger to her lips and shook her head, motioning Marie-Anne to keep still. She peered around the willows and whispered a single word, "Cree," while pulling Marie-Anne to her feet. The two women ran to the nearby poplar grove where their tents were pitched facing the river. Marguerite pulled Marie-Anne into the Lagimodière tent and scooped the sleeping baby Reine into her arms. "Stay here," she whispered.
Before Marie-Anne could gather her wits about her to protest, Marguerite had left the tent, taking Reine with her. Marie-Anne moved to follow them, but she didn't know which way to go because the nearby trees had already swallowed them up. She also realized that she could no longer hear the sound of the horses' hooves. The men must have reached the clearing and stopped. In despair, she reentered the tent. She threw herself down on the ground and prayed for deliverance.
Suddenly there were loud voices right outside the tent. Because they were speaking Cree, she couldn't understand what they were saying. Then she heard the tent flap opening...
About the Author
Irene Gordon lives along the Assiniboine River in Headingley, Manitoba. She has had a passion for history and writing since childhood. After a career as a teacher-librarian, she became a freelance writer in 1998. She shares Grey Owl's love of canoeing in the wilderness and also enjoys skiing, sailing, hiking, swimming, and travelling. Above all, she enjoys spending time with her two young grandsons, Jesse and Riley.
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