Summer in south Louisiana can be unpleasantly hot and humid,
with only occasional relief from afternoon thunderstorms rolling in from the
Gulf. Two hundred and fifty years ago a group of Acadian families spent their
first summer in Louisiana. They arrived in New Orleans at the end of February
of 1765, exiled by the British from their homes in Acadie (Nova Scotia). More
Acadian émigrés continued to arrive and soon the 193 who had arrived in
February numbered more than 500. A scouting party visited the Attakapas
District, present-day Iberia, Lafayette, St. Martin, St. Mary, and Vermilion
parishes, in hopes of finding a suitable place to establish a settlement. They
had been told they would find “magnificent grasslands with the finest soil in
the world.”[1]
A Live Oak on the Teche Ridge in the area formerly known as Fausse Pointe. |
Among the leaders of the Acadians who arrived in 1765 were
Joseph “Beausoleil” Broussard, newly-appointed Commandant of the Acadians in
the Attakapas District, and his older brother Alexandre, also known as
Beausoleil. The Beausoleil brothers had become legendary for stealthily resisting
deportation for years, finally being captured and imprisoned by the British. Most
of the Acadians who arrived in New Orleans were impoverished and uncertain of
their future in an unfamiliar country. For those who could not afford it, Joseph
Broussard had paid for their voyage from Halifax.[2]
In April of 1765 eight prominent Acadians, including Joseph
Broussard, agreed to raise cattle for Antoine Bernard Dauterive in the
Attakapas District. Supplied by the French colonial administration with tools,
seed, and provisions, the Acadians made their way through the Atchafalaya Basin
by way of Bayou Plaquemine to a place known as Fausse Pointe. [3]
At the time, Fausse Pointe referred to the area around a loop of the Bayou
Teche as it meandered along an ancient channel of the Mississippi River. The
Acadians must have arrived at the Teche along one of the many portages to the bayou, which had likely
been used by the native Atakapa and Chitimacha for more than a thousand years.
Plat map showing Spanish land patents along the Teche Ridge. |
Rather than establish a single village center or raise cattle
for Dauterive, the Acadians built their houses along the Teche Ridge in what
Jean-Francois, the priest who traveled with them, called New Acadia.[4]
The hardships they encountered there were described by Jean-Baptiste Semer in a
letter to his father, Germain Semer:
“We went to Attakapas
with guns, powder, and shot, but as it was already the month of May, the heat
being so intense, we started to work in too harsh conditions. There were six
plows that worked; we had to break in the oxen [and] travel fifteen leagues to
get horses. Finally, we had the finest harvest, and everybody contracted fevers
at the same time and, nobody being in a state to help anyone else, thirty-three
or thirty-four died, including the children.”[5]
According to historian Carl Brasseaux, the colony of New Acadia was comprised of several communities along the Teche Ridge, the natural levee of the Mississippi overlooking the tranquil Teche. The community of “le dernier camp d’en bas” was among the very first to be established, “near present-day Loreauville by late June, 1765.”[6]
The hardships increased, as many of the Acadians succumbed
to a virulent epidemic, possibly yellow fever. Having survived years of combat
with the British and endured the travails of imprisonment, deportation, and
forced exile, Joseph Beausoleil Broussard died on October 20, 1765. Preceded in
death by his brother, Alexandre, Joseph was buried in a grave at his home site,
a place Jean-Francois called Beausoleil.[7]
Two hundred and fifty years later, the graves of Joseph
Beausoleil Broussard, his brother Alexandre, and other Acadian émigrés who
traveled with them remain unidentified and unmarked. The locations of home
sites of the New Acadia colony of 1765 have also been forgotten. Some of these
places may have been plowed for sugarcane over the centuries, or perhaps
covered with concrete, asphalt, or shell.
Darrell Bourque, Poet Laureate of Louisiana, challenges us
to imagine what life was like at New Acadia in 1765.[8]
Although the surrounding landscape must have seemed like a strange and foreign
land, the cattle ranching the Acadians were accustomed to was well-suited to
the natural levees and rolling prairie terraces. Not much is otherwise known
about how they survived those first few months, or even where they built their first
homes. The last line of Bourque’s poem “Beausoleil’s Last Night” leaves a
haunting image of what we might share in common with Joseph Beausoleil
Broussard:
“… so that last night
he slept a dreamless sleep, at last an endless quiet on a nameless coast.”[9]
If history is about remembering as a community
(commemorating) what is meaningful about the past, then New Acadia is truly a
lost colony. Known today only through few brief written records, the original places
of New Acadia are nameless and neglected even in our dreams.
So why was New Acadia forgotten? Could the original
homesteads and associated graves really be found? More importantly, why does it
matter?
Why It Matters
1. The Advancement of Historical Knowledge
History is important, whether or not people will admit that
it is. From the standpoint of historians and archaeologists, scholars whose
professions are dedicated to learning about the past, the significance of historical
knowledge includes public education and improved quality of life. But it is
also pertinent to understanding the human condition, to commiserate with those
who lived in the past, and how their lives have influenced and shaped our own
world.
So the advancement of historical knowledge is one reason the lost colony
of New Acadia should be found and studied. The archaeological information to be
potentially gained could shed light on a wide range of poorly understood
topics, such as: where did they settle, what sort of houses did they build,
what material culture did they have, and what did they eat?
2. Heritage, Identity, and Culture
For those uninterested in the advancement of historical
knowledge and skeptical of its relevance to education and quality of life,
there is another, second and perhaps more compelling reason why history
matters. The contemporary identities of all people, whether political,
religious, economic, or social, are actively based on collective
representations of the past. Sometimes called heritage or cultural tradition,
these historical narratives find expression in commemorations and rituals,
historic buildings and landscapes, even everyday practices such as cooking and
playing music. At its most basic and individual scale, history is lived through
memories and practiced traditions, as experienced in the preparation of a
cherished family recipe handed down from a beloved great-aunt. Without memories
or tradition the cuisine shared by families and kinfolk would be mere
sustenance or fodder.
On a larger scale, representations of the past are used for
present purposes. Politicians try to get elected or perhaps gain support for
legislation by appealing to shared values steeped in cultural tradition. Sporting
events can be ideal opportunities for creating and sustaining collective
identity and tradition through the shared enthusiasm of devotees, as might be
experienced during the homecoming of the Ragin’ Cajuns at Cajun Field. An
enormous amount of resources, including millions of dollars, are expended each
year to publicize and promulgate what are regarded as the collective interests of a community,
whether at a convention center and arena called the Cajundome, at the Université des Acadiens, or at events
such as Festivals Acadiens et Créoles.
Newly-registered initiates of Université des Acadiens have been admitted into the campus community with the greeting
“we’re all Ragin’ Cajuns now.”
History matters because identity, as well as culture itself,
is inextricably rooted in the past. How do we know this for certain? A people
without a past would be without tradition, lacking heritage, and without a
shared experience or culture. On those occasions when important aspects of the
past are unknown or forgotten, communities create collective memories from
personal imagination and popular fiction. All people have the uncanny capacity
to reinvent tradition. Cultural revitalization in particular, demands that at
least some of the blanks are filled in. Historical narratives, landscapes,
places of historical significance, monuments and memorials, even tombs of
famous people who never lived can be fabricated in an amalgamation of social memory,
historiography, and myth.
A people in need of history will create narratives and
memory places, where shared experience and tradition might reside. In such
cases it may become impossible to distinguish the genuine from authentic
reproduction. Commemorations and narratives without historical precedent or
substantiation may eventually ring hollow or seem absurd, even becoming a
subject of ridicule. If neither Evangeline nor her alter ego is buried in
Evangeline’s tomb, precisely what does the statue cast in the likeness of the
actress who portrayed Evangeline memorialize?[10] The Beausoleil brothers did not
disembark with fanfare at the Evangeline Oak, or sail up the Bayou Teche
bringing crawfish to Cajun Field. Historical accuracy matters.
Historic marker at the Evangeline Oak in St. Martinville, directing visitors to Evangeline's tomb (State Library of Louisiana). |
The suffering and anguish of the Acadian expulsion
and diaspora may be beautifully expressed and deeply felt through literature
and art, but the commemoration and subsequent history of the grand dérangement should be methodically
studied and grounded in systematic, scientific research. The search for New Acadia is important whether it is done for historical knowledge and a better understanding of how the past has shaped the present, or to connect present-day heritage, identity, and culture with actual places and substantive discoveries. Archaeological survey to find the lost colony
of New Acadia might also strike an emotional chord – by locating the unmarked
graves of Acadian ancestors, as-yet-unknown hallowed places where their descendants
might go to pray.
More than two centuries separate the arrival of the Acadians
from official recognition of a place called Acadiana, the homeland of the
Cajuns, yet we still do not understand how or where it all began. The gulf that
separates the Cajuns of today from the colonists of New Acadia is not
insurmountable or incredibly wide. Yet it is unfathomably deep.
3. Development of the Cultural Economy
The Acadians of 1765 would be foreigners to most present-day
residents of Acadiana. In the ongoing commemoration, celebration, and commodification
of Cajun heritage, would the remembrances seem hollow and misdirected to those whose
burial places have been forgotten? Would anyone, then or now, find it ironic or at all strange that more than 10 million dollars is regularly budgeted for Ragin’ Cajun Athletics each year, while
a modest proposal to find the lost colony of New Acadia was turned down
by the Louisiana Board of Regents?
Luckily, there are people who are interested in discovering history that matters. The New Acadia Project (NAP) was launched with the formation of a Steering Committee that is raising donations and grant funding. NAP was initially funded for two years and is now
in its second year of investigations. The search for New Acadia has drawn interest from businesses and civic organizations that see a connection with economic development.
This leads us to the third and final
reason why history should matter. The
history of New Acadia that lies as-yet undiscovered within archaeological sites
along the Teche Ridge represent an unutilized and largely unrecognized economic
asset. The Acadiana and Cajun labels are today commonly appropriated in commerce,
just as the name of Evangeline was during the first part of the last century. As
with Evangeline, Acadiana is still a mythic landscape of which little is
actually well known.
Opportunities for development of the cultural economy, and
not just cultural tourism, are enormous and practically untapped for the
region. For example, a restaurant in a small village not far from the
Teche has at times struggled to stay open due to a lack of customers.
Establishment of a heritage-trail with historical markers through New Acadia
would draw visitors to the restaurant from overseas, as well as local residents
who might appreciate that their ancestors were among those who founded the colony of New Acadia – the founders and progenitor of Acadiana.
Farming and continued land
development, including new residential subdivisions, may have already adversely
impacted or even destroyed some sites. Future generations of Acadian
descendants might ask why the colony of New Acadia was never discovered and
preserved, or at least studied and recorded before being obliterated.
If we endeavor to ever truly understand the history of the
Acadians in Louisiana, to connect heritage and identity with systematic
scholarship, or to develop a cultural economy from it, the mythic landscape of Acadiana
must be carefully scrutinized and methodically re-examined. The lost colony of
New Acadia must be discovered.
Coming Soon:
How Do You Know Where
to Look?
Have You Found
Anything?
[1] Letter
by Jean-Baptiste Semer, an Acadian in New Orleans, to His Father in Le Havre,
April 20, 1766. Jean-François Mouhot and Bey Grieve. Louisiana History: the Journal of the Louisiana Historical Association.
Vol. 48, No. 2 (Spring, 2007), pp. 223-224.
[2] A Great and Noble Scheme: The Tragic Story
of the Expulsion of the French Acadians from Their American Homeland. John
Mack Faragher. W. W. Norton & Company, 2005. Pp. 395-97, 415, 428-30.
Letter by Jean-Baptiste Semer, p. 224.
[3] The Founding of New Acadia: The Beginnings
of Acadian Life in Louisiana, 1765-1803. Carl A. Brasseaux. Louisiana State
University Press, 1987. Pp. 75-77, 90-94.
"Scattered to the Wind" Dispersal and
Wanderings of the Acadians, 1755-1809. Carl A. Brasseaux. Louisiana Life Series No. 6. Center for Louisiana Studies, 1991. Pp.
61-65.
[4] The Founding of New Acadia, p. 75-77, 92.
[5] Letter
by Jean-Baptiste Semer, p. 224.
[6] The Founding of New Acadia, pp. 91-92.
[7] A Great and Noble Scheme, p. 429.
[8] Megan's Guitar and Other Poems from Acadie.
Darrell Bourque. University of Louisiana at Lafayette Press, 2013. P. 68.
[9] Megan's Guitar, p. 69.
[10] In Search of Evangeline: Birth and Evolution of the Evangeline Myth. Carl A. Brasseaux. Blue Heron Press, 1988. P. 41.
[10] In Search of Evangeline: Birth and Evolution of the Evangeline Myth. Carl A. Brasseaux. Blue Heron Press, 1988. P. 41.