Stories of the People and Places of 17th and 18th Century Acadia
“A river doesn’t climb back to its source; a man
doesn’t regain his lost youth; a people doesn’t change
the past. From the travails, the misfortunes, the ruins of
this past, a people can, however, draw useful lessons
for the present and the future.”
The region that was once called Acadia (Acadie in French) is probably most famous for the expulsion of its French-speaking inhabitants by the British over 265 years ago. In Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s romantic, yet in some ways foundational poem, Acadia is depicted as a near-paradise inhabited by “simple Acadian farmers” who were “free from/Fear, that reigns with the tyrant . . .”
Longfellow’s picture of a simple existence, without tyrants or fear, doesn’t reflect the realities of the people who inhabited 17th and 18th century Acadia. Nor does it give us a true picture of who they were, in all their glory and with all their flaws. His beautiful text is poetry, which is always part illusion.
History, by contrast, asks us to resist the temptation to “marbleize” our forebears. It invites us to see, and accept, their failures and biases, as well as their heroism, their strengths, their flashes of brilliance. History discourages us from thinking of people only in the aggregate — They were… They did…— and asks us to understand them as individuals, as well as members of a group.
Contemporary drawing showing Fort Beausejour and the church built by militant priest Jean-Louis Le Loutre
If we take history’s lessons to heart, we understand that we can be brave in the face of adversity, because in the past ordinary people like us were brave. We learn that their opinions were sometimes ignorant and prejudiced and that, therefore, we might be prone to the same errors. Seeing how they persevered through suffering, we learn to endure.
We know from history that Acadia was not a paradise. It was largely an unforgiving wilderness, where survival depended on constant hard work. Much of the year was spent in preparation for winter, which could be long and harsh. Food was processed in kitchens and smokehouses, not by commercial conglomerates. For travel, people built their own boats, carts, and roads. There were epidemics and wild animals to contend with. Port cities like Louisbourg were subject to raids and siege warfare, but any settlement could be attacked, even in the absence of declared war.
Author Charles D. Mahaffie Jr. called Acadia A Land of Discord Always. By the mid-18th century, the region lay within shouting—and shooting—distance of the other 13 British colonies. Whoever ruled Acadia would rule the continent. During 155 years of European conflict, France controlled it six times and Great Britain four, each bringing their misconceptions, prejudices, and diseases with them, and each contributing to endemic unrest.
Even before France and England clashed over the turf, French seigneurs (land grantees) waged battles amongst themselves. Amerindians fought each other from prehistoric times, and considering the terror that rained down on them when Europeans arrived, it’s hard to see Acadia as a paradise. I doubt any of its inhabitants thought of it that way, ever.
It’s doubtful they thought of themselves as simple either. Although they were mostly illiterate, Acadians were hardly ignorant. They may not have grasped everything they needed to know about the stormy geopolitics of the time, but they couldn’t help but understand European conflicts. That violence played out all around them, in the form of raids on their settlements, trading and travel bans, harassment of their priests, harassment by their priests, and battles waged against the forts in their midst.
Similarly, though they were patronized with labels like “children of the forest,” Amerindians of Acadia had complex cultures and traditions for thousands of years before Europeans arrived. Their social structures, kinship lines, and religious practices were well established by Champlain’s time. Like the first French settlers, they were illiterate—not through ignorance, but because their languages were oral, not written. And like the Acadian settlers, they would become all too knowledgeable about the prejudices that sailed across the Atlantic Ocean on European ships.
Baptismal record of Francoise Marie Jacquelin, who would grow up to be the wife of the Governor of Acadia.
So who were the people who inhabited this frontier landscape and influenced its foundation and future? That’s primarily what this site is about, to introduce some of those characters—the famous, and others not well known—who lived or impacted the Acadian way of life between 1604 and 1758. History has left us a partial record of the people of Acadia. It’s tinged with the prejudices and sentiments of former times, which often resemble our own. Sadly, there are many gaps, where voices have been silenced, participants ignored, and stories lost.
We know they were explorers, farmers, soldiers, fishermen, carpenters, missionaries, midwives, embezzlers, traders and trappers, storekeepers, blacksmiths, government functionaries, kings, nobles, slaves—yes, slaves!—scallywags and saints. Many of them, of course, were women.
We know that they were Amerindians who had been there for 10,000 years, primarily Mi’kmaq and Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik) in Nova Scotia and the area now known as New Brunswick. They were also French, British, Dutch, Scottish, Basque, and Europeans from other nations. They were New Englanders (Bastonnais or Yanquis, to the Acadians).
Ancient Acadian Lives explores the historical record, and attempts to penetrate some of the silences, in hopes of teasing out an understanding of Acadia’s people and of its past. The characters are many and varied, and often surprising.
I’m also interested in exploring family histories or stories of old Acadia. If you have any to share, please send them via the email address below.