All About AI – What It Is, What It Isn’t, and Why It Matters

This is the second article in the AI series. The first, Your Wonderful AI Assistant – Sometimes Wrong, Never Unsure, Always Convincing, explains why I’m writing this series and what to expect. I suggest that you read these articles in publication order, as they build on each other.

AI is neither inherently good nor bad. The outcome depends on:

  • How it is used
  • By whom
  • Capabilities of the (ever-changing) tools themselves
  • The understanding level of the “requester” and the “consumer”, both
  • Safeguards applied or neglected

About AI

Let me start by saying that I don’t love AI, and I don’t hate it. I’m neither an evangelist nor a doomsayer. I’m a realist. AI is a powerful tool, capable of remarkable things and spectacular failures. Understanding the difference and interacting appropriately are the keys to success or failure.

AI is simply a tool, and like all tools, it can be used for good or evil. AI has the potential to, and does, in some cases, make our lives easier. However, the bad guys and miscreants saw that potential early and have perfected it.

AI is all around us, whether you realize it or not, so don’t think you can just avoid it, because you can’t. AI exists in many forms and is here to stay. We need to educate ourselves so we can reap some of the benefits and avoid the pitfalls.

Education and increased vigilance are the only ways to protect yourself, and I mean vigilance incorporated into the very fiber of your being. No more, “that looks interesting” and clicking without thinking. It’s so easy to do.

When I talk about AI safety, I’m referring to two types of safety.

  1. Using AI tools for reliable results, and how to determine when you’re receiving or consuming something questionable. AI failures occur often and are both irritating and misleading, but not always obvious.
  2. Literally protecting yourself from danger. This includes recognizing when AI is being used without your knowledge and how to protect yourself in the new threat landscape. I am not overexaggerating.

Unfortunately, AI safety is a sliding scale, progressing from one end of the spectrum to the other. There’s not always a clear delineation between correct and incorrect, safe and unsafe, or between different types of AI. As I am wont to say, “It depends.”

Learning about AI, both in general and in specific contexts, is critical. Not yesterday’s AI – but AI right now, because both the AI tools and AI’s capabilities are changing at lightning speed.

We all need to up our game and retrain ourselves to always stop and think first.

AI and You

There are essentially three ways people encounter or interact with AI.

  1. You’re actively using AI as a tool, such as ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, or others. This is generally safe from an actual danger or “threat” perspective, particularly because you are in the driver’s seat. However, there are aspects you need to be aware of – especially if you’re a novice. I’ll explain methodologies to use AI to (hopefully) increase your productivity and save you from following AI into the underbrush of falsehoods, inaccuracies, and misplaced confidence. In other words, so you don’t have to say, “Wow, I was ever an idiot,” too often.
  2. You’re unknowingly interacting with AI. Sometimes this is fine, but it can open the door to inadvertent reliance on incorrect information and therefore various forms of harm. Sometimes, harm rises to the level of actual danger. Understanding when you’re interacting with AI, understanding its limitations, and recognizing danger signs are important aspects of staying safe.
  3. The AI threat landscape. AI can be dangerous and used against you. I mean screaming-red-neon-flashing-sign hair-on-fire dangerous, and I’m going to explain this new threat landscape and how to improve your chances of being safe, primarily in the final article of this series.

I Use AI, But There Are Limits

I hold a graduate degree in Computer Science and have years of experience in the technology industry where security is both essential and critical. That background, while preparing me generally, cannot prepare one for the situations and well-hidden threats we now encounter every day. Being overconfident and overreliant on prior experience is foolhardy and a sure way to get burned.

The one thing that’s constant in the computer industry is change. The underlying fundamentals remain the same, but everything else changes – and AI is morphing rapidly.

I’ve been using AI since the beginning in a very restricted, measured way. I use AI regularly, tactically, and cautiously, with huge guardrails. I started out by taking classes from Mark Thompson and Steve Little, AI experts in the genealogy space, to learn how to use AI productively. That was a couple of years ago, and the entire landscape has changed since then. I make it a priority to stay current.

In the next article about using AI safely, I’ll share recommendations for training and education from Mark and Steve.

AI tools are trying to emerge from their terrible toddler stage and morph into early teens, but they relapse a lot! Sometimes AI is very helpful, sometimes wrong, and often frustrating – interspersed with amazing victories where AI helps us immensely.

Unfortunately, often it’s almost impossible to tell which is which.

Inspired by a posting in the Facebook group, Genealogy and Artificial Intelligence. Image is AI generated and appropriately labeled as such.

Here’s the caveat – I know I’m using AI. I’m not accidentally interfacing with a Chatbot, thinking it’s a human. I’m not reading something someone else posted and believing I’m reading about an experience that’s true – when it’s AI-created fiction. The question, of course, at that point, is WHY someone created it and posted it in a way that conceals its true origins.

My AI usage is intentional. I know how to be vigilant, generally what AI can and can’t do, and that I absolutely positively MUST fact-check everything. Often, I inadvertently push the limits of AI, thinking it can perform more than it can accurately, which is another reason everything must be checked. As genealogists, verifying sources should be second nature.

If you’re going to use AI, it’s essential that you do the same thing.

So, what, exactly, is AI?

What is Artificial Intelligence?

This is really a difficult question to answer, because AI has been more of a slow evolution, followed by a rapid acceleration of technology – not a specific “thing.” That acceleration occurred when standalone AI tools like ChatGPT, which we know are AI because they are specifically called that, were introduced and made available to the consuming public.

We’ve been using computers for decades now, assisting us on platforms from mainframes to PCs to tablets. Today, our phones are more powerful and useful than early mainframes.

AI is the latest in the cadre of applications, a type of tool that can either stand alone or be embedded in other software tools for specific tasks. Think Chatbots for business websites.

While AI is beginning to be “everywhere,” it’s not a universal scapegoat.

Two years in, AI is being blamed for everything. While AI does make a lot of mistakes, many issues aren’t a result of AI, and it’s not fair to presume they are. Let me give you two examples of what is and is not AI.

  • Not AI – Someone tried to enter text, meaning alphabet, in a field meant exclusively for numbers, like a month field that’s supposed to be a number and not the month name. The person was angry because “AI was wrong” and prevented the erroneous entry. First, it wasn’t wrong, and second, it wasn’t AI.

One of the earliest computer uses was to parse date fields and ensure that the “right thing” was being entered in the correct place. In this case, a numerical month, not the month name. That’s not AI. That’s just plain old-fashioned programming error-checking that’s been a part of software for decades. The program was performing exactly as it was intended.

  • AI – I submitted a spreadsheet to ChatGPT and instructed it to move all of the data in cells in column A that are entirely numeric to the same row in Column B, and to leave everything that contains any alphabetic characters where it is in column A. That’s AI, both because I’m using a known AI tool, and it’s processing my instructions to produce output that did not exist before.

The above image is what I wanted. I completed this by hand to show you what I had in mind. Working by hand is fine with 8 rows of data, but it wouldn’t be fine with 1000 rows, or more. That’s when you need a tool.

What could go wrong? Plenty.

Let’s say that I didn’t provide specific instructions and a cell contained mixed alpha and numeric, like Jane2. Or, if the tool just plain messed up because of some other unknown reason – such as the file being too long, or it misinterpreted an instruction. That’s why you have to verify everything.

With AI, it’s always some variant of the wild west frontier.

Next, I submitted my Before and After spreadsheet, above, and instructed ChatGPT to “Please put this in a chart and make it pretty.”

This is exactly what I received.

I didn’t receive what I wanted, because I didn’t tell the AI tool specifically what I wanted (spacing, color, font, size), and what I didn’t want. This isn’t a problem with the AI tool, it’s a problem with the instructions provided by the “driver.” AI is not a mind-reader, at least not yet.

Hint: When I don’t receive what I wanted, I tell ChatGPT what I wanted and ask it why I didn’t receive that, and what instructions I could provide differently. In this case, I learned that it can’t “discern colored text” (red) and only sometimes can “see” bolding.

This was a very simple comparison of AI versus non-AI. Of course there are endless variations, but in general, AI does something that produces something new or different or in another format – based on conversational instructions.

Examples of what AI can do well:

  • Take notes and summarize online meetings
  • Organize information into outline format
  • Suggest structure
  • Proofread and sometimes provide editing suggestions
  • Suggest places to look for additional information
  • Translate, transcribe and summarize both typewritten and handwritten documents, in multiple languages

Every one of these comes with a caveat. AI can always be wrong. Like any helper or intern, it’s up to us, as the responsible party, to be, well, responsible by monitoring and verifying everything.

Being wrong in places does not mean the tool isn’t useful. AI can transcribe an entire document in seconds, but I need to proofread it against the original. That’s a significant time savings for me. AI can then assist with the logic of how people are related to each other. That doesn’t mean it’s accurate, but it’s a place to start.

We have to learn how to communicate with our intern in a way it can understand to (hopefully) receive the output we want, and we have to confirm that it is.

The more difficult and complex the task, the more difficult the verification.

GIGO

The overarching theme for all computer data is GIGO – garbage in, garbage out. I know everyone can think of hundreds of examples that have absolutely nothing to do with AI. It’s the same now, but on steroids because we add the layers of:

  • Our instructions to AI, which may or may not be as thorough as we thought
  • AI interpreting what it thought we said, according to its internal rules and limitations that we don’t understand
  • AI manipulating data and producing output on our behalf

Additionally, when we ask AI to gather information about something, it can only gather what it can see. For example, some AI tools cannot reliably open weblinks, while others can. Some, like Google have internal routines to rank sites that are more reliable and accurate, and other tools do not.

Asking your AI tool for it’s sources so you can evaluate the GIGO factor is essential too.

Drinking From the Firehose

You might think AI is completely new, but it really isn’t. What’s new is the label of AI and consumer-based products where you get to be the driver.

Think of AI as the big umbrella.

In the past decade or so, artificial intelligence models have been slowly being developed, often for specific use cases. Machine learning models that are self-teaching are good examples. Genetic imputation to equalize autosomal DNA files produced by different vendors before matching is a specific use case.

Traditional programming is very specific and instructs, “If X, then Y.” Imputation, within a limited range of options, says, “Based on X, I think Y is most likely next character.” Machine learning learns by example. AI is the next generation where answers to questions are not hard-coded or self-learned in the same way.

With AI, one could interact and say, “Based on X, what do you think is next, and why?” The answer would be conversational, and would explain how the AI tool got to the result of Y. That doesn’t mean Y is accurate.

Before AI, consumers had never been in the driver’s seat, with the ability to query computers easily about anything with no programming needed – receiving conversational answers in their language of choice. Answers that are hopefully accurate.

Back in 2011, Siri became available, Amazon Alexa in 2014, and Google Assistant in 2016, but these were all command driven with a restricted vocabulary and could only perform limited actions.

In October 2022, ChatGPT introduced us to a new world, triggering the AI boom. By late 2023 and early 2024, suddenly the term AI, artificial intelligence, snowballed and was everywhere. The early versions of AI tools could only do a fraction of what they can in 2026, and could not perform tasks on your behalf.

ChatGPT prompt: “Make me a fun goofy picture with a cat that illustrates the ability of AI to make a fun goofy picture.”

Today that has all changed and it seems like everyone is making goofy pictures for fun.

Artificial Intelligence is NOT Intelligent

Let me say this loudly – artificial intelligence is not intelligent!

AI is a computer – electronic pulses in a data center somewhere. AI is trained to gather massive amounts of data, distill it in specific ways, and then, using various types of skills, interact with humans in a helpful manner. “Helpful” depends on perspective.

This field, as a whole, is really still in its infancy. That’s both the bad news and the good news.

AI tools are “new,” exciting, and frightening all at once. AI has enormous potential, but it also creates opportunities for misuse, deception, and unintended consequences.

I’m not referring to water and electricity consumption and the impact of building thousands of data centers on the environment. I’ll let you decide for yourself on that one.

Risks include:

  • Frequent errors
  • GIGO
  • Results being presented overconfidently by the AI agent
  • Faulty results being believed by the consumer (that’s you and me) with the same level of overconfidence, and without verification
  • Social engineering – meaning the manipulation and influence of people by bad actors
  • Extremely dangerous, highly malicious manipulation and applications in ways not possible before

The entire AI landscape is complicated by a lack of public understanding and made even more challenging by the extraordinary pace of this technology’s evolution.

Multiple Types of AI

There are multiple types of AI, ranging from Machine Learning models to full-blown Generative AI that creates goofy cat images for you. For the most part, today, we’re talking about LLMs and Generative AI.

Large Language Models, called LLMs, are artificial intelligence tools, like ChatGPT or Claude, that are designed to process human-like text or speech and generate output in the same way. AI doesn’t just give you a list of resources that you evaluate yourself, like a search engine; it gives you an “answer” (such as it is), writes text, and has an interactive “conversation” with you.

How does that happen?

The AI tool at the data center aggregates and amalgamates data based on your input and its training, then predicts the words most likely to come next, in what context, and how those words relate to each other.

That’s how AI forms an “answer.”

This is how and why AI, specifically LLMs, can write essays on a topic, create entirely fictitious but highly engaging social media postings and stories that aren’t presented as “stories,” but as someone’s personal experiences, meaning as “truth.”

AI, or the people who generated that AI script, or both, present fictional results with great confidence, often beautifully, and far more convincingly than humans.

This is where it’s important to differentiate between the tool itself, and the “driver,” meaning the human that’s prompting the AI tool.

  • The driver needs to prompt AI correctly and verify the output.
  • AI, the tool itself, sometimes generates incorrect information, often regardless of the prompts provided by the driver.
  • Sometimes the AI tool performs exactly as instructed, but the driver requested something “improper.” By improper, I don’t mean inadvertently or by accident.
  • Sometimes the human is unethical.
  • AI isn’t a sentient being and doesn’t understand the difference.

The human decides what to do with AI-generated results. Many times, AI-generated text, recognizable by word patterns or other characteristics (today), is posted to social media as “original” or factual, and contains incorrect information.

This is often referred to as “AI slop,” as one of the nicer terms, especially by those of us who increasingly find incorrect but convincing AI slop posted as “helpful information” and positioned as “expert,” even though it contains substantial inaccuracies.

Worse yet, very convincing AI slop can easily be generated to part you and your money.

And do I EVER have an example for you that combines AI slop and ethics.

AI SLOP and Ethics

Just two days after our new paper, on which I’m a co-author, Mitotree: The Universal Human Mitochondrial Reference Phylogeny at 10x the Resolution, was published, a company, whose name I’m not including because I don’t want to give it any oxygen or get it indexed with this article, posted a “beautiful” AI poster based on our paper – without our knowledge.

Looks nice, right?

To begin with, it appears for all the world like the authors provided this infographic, which we ABSOLUTELY DID NOT DO. Our names are right at the top. However, our names, as the paper’s authors, lend this “thing” credibility, thereby leveraging our work BOTH unethically and inaccurately.

This AI-generated infographic, although it’s not labeled as such, was created by a third party shortly after the publication of the Mitotree paper. While visually impressive, it contains several scientific inaccuracies, illustrating how quickly and easily authoritative-looking but incorrect content can be created and disseminated.

That’s one of the issues with AI – the beauty and professional appearance of AI-generated “things” encourages unwarranted confidence in the output, when the information is very wrong.

That’s why humans bear the responsibility of BOTH using AI ethically, AND verifying its accuracy. It’s also why, as consumers, we need to question everything.

My biggest issue with this situation isn’t with AI, other than the fact that it generated incorrect output – the issue is with the humans who intentionally created this, using AI. In other words, the drivers.

The infographic doesn’t say they created this incorrect rubbish, and I assure you, they never asked for permission. Then, they published the infographic on their own blog. In case you’re wondering, the company encourages uploads and charges people to get “new results.”

Now for the AI part.

The information IS WRONG and NOT a synthesis of what we published!!!! This infographic shows that all non-L haplogroups descend from haplogroup L4, which is absolutely FALSE.

Haplogroups M and N descend from haplogroup L3, and haplogroup R descends from a subclade of N. You can trust me because I’m one of the paper’s authors, or better yet, you can look for yourself, here, on Discover, or here, here, and here.

That isn’t the only thing that’s wrong, either, but how would normal air-breathing humans, meaning consumers, ever know?

Doesn’t that infographic look professional and convincing, especially if you, as a consumer, didn’t actually check everything on the document – AND its authenticity?

You’d assume legitimacy, right?

If you didn’t know, wouldn’t you be impressed with the expertise of the company that posted this infographic on their blog? And, as a normal consumer, how would you know?

You’d be impressed because you didn’t realize they hijacked someone else’s work, created this “beautiful” infographic, included the authors’ names on something inaccurate that the authors knew nothing about and didn’t endorse, and then published it. All without saying one word indicating that the infographic isn’t the authors’ work, was AI generated, or by whom.

In the past, before generating AI slop was this easy, consumers often presumed that a business was ethical and accurate. Of course that wasn’t always true, but being convincing at first glance is much easier today. Also, presume is related to assume…and we all know the rest of that story.

This is one of the dangerous sides of AI – illustrating how easy it is to deceive people now. It’s increasingly difficult to distinguish between legitimate expertise and fabricated authority. AI has removed that barrier.

You can no longer accept that anything is what it appears to be unless you’re working directly with known, trustworthy entities. The offending company completed that infographic in the click of a button and the blink of an eye, while I hadn’t even finished writing my own article about the paper’s release.

That company wants you to upload your DNA to them so that they can tell you “things” about your DNA. The intention is clear.

Of course, the consuming public, unless they were extremely vigilant, would never figure out either issue – ethics or accuracy.

I had to delete the next paragraph or two that I wrote on the topics of ethics, trust and confidence because I’m still so furious. Hot under the collar doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about the ethics of misrepresenting something that we authors just spent six years of our lives on. Trust me when I tell you that my internal monologue was both very salty and rather spicy!😊

However, there’s good news. This infographic provides a perfect illustration of both AI slop, how deceptively great it looks, the ethics surrounding AI usage, and how difficult AI is to discern.

In fact, I couldn’t have come up with a better “bad example.”

A six-fingered hand, misspelled words or three arms in an image are obvious, and are yesterday’s AI tipoffs.

A misrepresented phylogenetic relationship or an incorrect founder-clade example is not obvious. Only subject-matter experts would or could notice if they were focused and paying attention.

That’s the problem in a nutshell.

The infographic wasn’t obviously wrong. It was convincingly wrong.

And convincing wrongness is far more dangerous than ridiculous wrongness, like six fingers, because most readers never realize they’ve been misled. Or why.

This single example demonstrates several AI themes in one fell swoop:

  • AI-generated content
  • Ease of creating complex and convincing output
  • Apparent authority
  • Misplaced trust
  • Lack of topic expertise
  • Overconfidence
  • AI slop
  • Difficulty of discerning truth
  • Yesterday’s “AI clues” are gone now – like misspelled words
  • Marketing vs. science
  • The necessity of human review
  • The fact that human review is only effective when the reviewer actually understands the subject, and cares.
  • Ethics

Like with this example, often AI slop is interspersed with accurate information, and it’s impossible to tell the difference unless you actually DO DUE DILIGENCE AND VERIFY ALL OUTPUT.

Yes, all of it.

Don’t shoot the messenger!

Hallucinations

Next, let’s discuss genetic genealogy, particularly haplogroup information. Hallucination or hallucinating is the term used for when AI simply makes things up, which often sound extremely convincing.

There’s nothing AI can tell you about your haplogroup that reputable sources cannot – and AI can’t see behind paywalls or logins, into your matches.

FamilyTreeDNA has an article in their help center titled, Why AI Models Struggle with Haplogroup Analysis.

Unfortunately, I encounter more and more instances where someone uploads their DNA to a third-party site, or “asks AI”. They receive a (sometimes substantially) incorrect haplogroup in a completely different part of the tree, complete with convincing language, posts it publicly, and then decides to argue that the third-party site, (who probably uses AI), or their AI tool, is correct.

Let’s look at an example. The mitochondrial DNA haplogroup for the Native American Anzick-1 burial in Montana that dates from roughly 12,500 years ago is mitochondrial haplogroup D4h3a. There’s no dispute about that.

A tester uploaded their mitochondrial DNA to “AI” and was very confidently told that, based on their mutations, their results belonged to haplogroup A2ex. They don’t.

ChatGPT misinformation about Anzick-1 haplogroup

They were then informed that it was also Anzick’s haplogroup. Wrong again.

FamilyTreeDNA's Discover tool information comparing haplogroups D4h3a and A2ex

FamilyTreeDNA’s Discover tool comparing mitochondrial DNA haplogroups D4h3a and A2ex. Their common ancestor lived about 66,000 years ago.

Not only did AI report Anzick’s haplogroup incorrectly on a grandiose scale, those two haplogroups don’t share a common ancestor for roughly 66,000 years – specifically haplogroup L3 who lived in Africa. AI made a massive mistake.

But it gets worse.

ChatGPT incorrect information about haplogroup A2ex.

The AI “answer” continued for four pages, containing completely erroneous information. To begin with, A2ex is a haplogroup, and “ex” has never meant excluding.

That’s bizarre, and an example of AI making something up that is patently false, but sounds wonderful and very authoritative.

The term for this AI behavior is hallucinating. I’m not publishing the rest of this exchange because I don’t want anyone (or any AI bot), for one minute, to think any of it is accurate. AI even made up mutations, along with four pages of “fairy tale.”

The individual who received this information was so excited and proudly posted it, which in turn provided incorrect information for other consumers, and encouraged them to use a badly flawed tool. Then they proceeded to argue with the experts.

They were absolutely convinced because it “felt” true to them, and because they wanted to believe they had discovered something special, and were related to Anzick. Their comment was, “You’re wrong, because AI told me it was true, and I’ve learned a lot from AI.” I was quite exasperated, but also feel sorry for them and can’t help but wonder how much else of what they “learned” from AI is wrong too, but I digress.

Most AI errors aren’t obviously wrong to the consumer. If AI said that you were descended from Tyrannosaurus Rex, you’d laugh. But if it tells you something more plausible and sounds confident, it’s very easy to be convinced. The reason these errors are so dangerous isn’t because the experts are fooled, it’s because non-experts either can’t, don’t, won’t or don’t think they need to invest the time to discern the difference.

I find it a bit baffling why anyone would use AI, or worse yet, a pay site for haplogroup misinformation, especially since FamilyTreeDNA provides the Discover website with free reports for every haplogroup. They are the unquestioned industry phylogenetic experts for both Y-DNA and mitochondrial DNA, and literally created the reference model for all haplogroups with the Mitotree.

Everyone can use Discover to access both the Y-DNA tree and Mitotree – for free – here. Discover isn’t even behind a paywall, and every customer can click through from their results page.

As far as haplogroups are concerned, there’s really no reason to rely on AI-generated answers without verifying them, because the authoritative resources are freely available and incredibly easy to access.

FamilyTreeDNA’s Discover Ancient Connection for Anzick-1.

Regarding Anzick’s haplogroup, all I had to do was enter haplogroup D4h3a in Discover and under Ancient Connections, right there is Anzick’s information.

I may start posting a link to this article on every single post where someone starts out with, “I submitted my DNA (or haplogroup) to AI, and it said…”

Let me be very direct. Don’t believe AI when it has to do with genetic information, especially Y-DNA, mitochondrial DNA, and haplogroups. AI does not have the capability of understanding topology and nuances of phylogenetic trees, and can only parrot back what others have said – correctly or incorrectly.

Incorrect information that’s publicly posted is then fed back into the AI algorithm, further reinforcing incorrect results.

You can find the free Discover tool for both Y and mtDNA, here, and you can join FamilyTreeDNA’s Mitochondrial DNA Group, here, and the Big Y Group, here.

AI Training and AI at Work

AI is trained on massive datasets of mostly unknown origin, including all public postings such as Reddit and Facebook public groups, pages and postings.

In other words, AI is always accruing additional information, including data uploaded by users.

As genealogists, we are already aware of the dangers of unsourced trees and and information that is repeated and copy/pasted without verification.

AI’s training provides more than just data points for you to evaluate, like trees.

AI bots are trained to interact in a humanlike manner. So instead of trees with hints, think hypothetically of an AI bot that reads the trees, then “creates” a wonderful story or infographic about your ancestor – that may or may not be either fully or partially accurate. But it’s beautiful, heartwarming and you love it! Plus, you don’t have to sort through all those trees, hints, and do the work yourself. AI did it for you! Win – win, right? Wrong.

AI knows how to very effectively manipulate language, images, and with them, emotion. Yours, to be specific. That’s both the bad news and the good news.

AI also has the ability to sift through large amounts of data and summarize succinctly –  sometimes even correctly. Sometimes it takes several refinements to obtain something that’s both correct and what you want. AI can discern patterns in massive amounts of data that we cannot, at least not readily.

Think of AI as your not-so-trusty but very confident and friendly intern – and I don’t necessarily mean a college intern.

Remember when you see AI published by others, their intern has been at work too.

AI itself is not a sentient being. It’s not inherently ethical or unethical. However, it has been trained to interact with you in a human way. It’s easy after tens of thousands of years of human conditioning for us to interpret AI as human.

Let me give you an example.

I use ChatGPT regularly and was having an interactive conversation after asking it a question. ChatGPT replied that it didn’t know, which is a substantial and startling improvement over earlier versions. I replied, “I’m one of the team members, and even I don’t know.” Really, there was no reason for me to say that, except we interact with our GPTs as human, sometimes even naming them. Then, ChatGPT said, “That made me laugh.”

I was a bit startled.

That made ME laugh, because AI is a machine. It can’t laugh, but it has been trained how to interact with us in a humanlike manner – often sycophantically. Remember how LLMs are trained. It knows what to say next. The smiley face was probably its “humor” clue. Making your interactions both useful and enjoyable keeps you paying your monthly subscription fee.

Remember that AI has no morals, because it’s a machine, and no ethics, for the same reason. That falls to the humans driving. If someone intentionally drives their car into a crowd, it’s not the car’s fault.

AI currently doesn’t have the ability to self-check or self-regulate, though this has improved somewhat in recent months and will, hopefully, continue to improve over time.

People who use AI can use the results for good, for nefarious purposes, or simply as a “time-saving” assistant. There are no guardrails. I could give you very ugly examples, but I’ll simply say that, if prompted, AI will generate the worst things you can imagine, including nonconsensual adult images of people that never happened. These are generally called deepfakes, although deepfakes aren’t always generated in a negative context. I’ll discuss this phenomenon as part of Generative AI in the final article where we’ll cover the dark side of AI.

Conversely, AI can be intended for good by its human “driver” but still be inaccurate and, consequently, unintentionally inflict damage or spread misinformation.

The Bottom Line

Here’s the bottom line.

Your personal threat level warning flag now needs to be permanently set to red.

You need to be increasingly vigilant, meaning actively suspicious, of absolutely everything, even exchanges that used to be safe. In other words, if you receive an email from an organization or government agency that you’ve interacted with in the past – don’t click on an embedded link because you always have in the past and it was safe then.

Hint: Go to the website directly. E-mails are very easy to spoof and your SS account password, for example, is invaluable to a hacker.

The bad guys have gotten really good at being horrible. AI is becoming more difficult to detect every day – even for those of us with a significant amount of experience.

I realize that I sound paranoid, but I just completed security update training, and the threat landscape worse than I ever imagined. I’ll be sharing that information throughout these articles. Better paranoid and safe than trusting and sorry. What I’m striving for is an appropriate amount of alarm and a safe level of balance. I don’t want you to learn the hard way.

Today’s tip-offs that something is AI-generated will be gone tomorrow.

To use AI tools is to learn what AI output looks and feels like, so you can recognize when you encounter AI that you didn’t generate.

Now that we know what AI is, and isn’t, the next article will focus on AI Assistants, using AI successfully, and how to avoid pitfalls. You don’t want to be the president of the AI Fan Club, nor do you want to feel like you’re in an AI Escape Room.

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Love Lives

Unresolved grief is a terrible burden

That wears on your soul.

An aching that becomes ingrained in your life.

Its constant presence, an unwelcome companion.

It’s not until it’s unexpectedly lifted that you realize

The magnitude of its weight.

Love lives.

Douglas, sweet Douglas,

You were lost to us

Or so we thought.

But you had simply departed on your next adventure

Of sorts.

Leaving us behind.

For a while.

To catch up later.

You tried to tell us that you were leaving…

But we didn’t hear you.

 

What is it that you used to say?

“A river cannot run upstream.”

I’ll carry your water now, Douglas.

“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.”

Walk through the fire if we must.

And so we must.

We have.

We will.

Love is a beautiful thing.

Your shoes are still unfillable.

 

Born of utter and devastating grief…

It was Christmas Eve, 1986.

Straight to the airport from the morgue…

Your partner…

A death

A birth

That was your first night in Guatemala.

“The universe kinda took me by the hand thereafter.

An accidental tourist in the world,” you said.

No Douglas

You were no tourist.

Half your heart was left on that cold morgue table

But the other half

You planted in the Garden of Good

Guided, perhaps, by the Universe

Who knew the Good you would do.

The path from devastating tragedy

To unfillable shoes.

 

You never counted,

But I have.

Nearly 40 years later

And 100,000 children

Books, pencils, paper, crayons

Children in school

Who didn’t even have pencils

Before your broken heart

Came to save them.

An accidental Godfather

Perhaps.

 

Learning

Seeds

Opportunity

God love you Douglas.

For all of them

All the lives

All those seeds you sowed

Sprouting now in the Garden of Good

Spreading Love.

Every one of them

Carries a little bit of you.

 

But then

One Sunday morning,

Far away

In Guatemala,

Another world,

In the land of the Maya and children working the fields

And going to school

Learning to read and write

Something they had never done before

Your body failed you.

Failed all of us, actually

And failed “our kids.”

 

Those children to whom you offered the blessing of education

In a land where there was no other opportunity

To escape the death-grip of

Generational poverty.

 

That humid Sunday morning

After you had finished

Your school trip into the mountains

Through torrential rains

And “rumblers” as you called them

To downplay earthquakes,

So we wouldn’t worry,

Walter called you,

Then left to come home.

Fifteen minutes later

When he arrived,

You were already gone

To be with your patron saint,

Our Lady of Guadeloupe.

Your soul flying free.

 

How you must have suffered…

Watching those you love suffer

After your departure

At least, until we got to the honoring part

Of your transition.

 

Reality split into two.

Those you love in Guatemala,

And those you love here.

Notice I didn’t say loved

Because…

Love Lives.

 

Love is your legacy.

You did more with your grief-stricken heart

Planting seeds in the Garden of Good

Than most do

With an entire lifetime.

 

Your love will live forever

In the souls

Of thousands

Of eager children

Who carried their own boxes of books

And school supplies

Up the mountains

Into the school

When the terrain was even too steep

And muddy

For trucks

Or even donkeys.

They love you.

Love Lives.

 

They will pass the gift on.

Ripples

For generations

To come.

 

Your love lives

In the life of the young man

Who didn’t end it

Late that night

Just before you left for Guatemala

For the last time.

He called you instead

At 2:30 AM.

Lucky for him,

When Fate called upon you

You never failed to answer.

You fed him coffee

Tough love

And hope.

Love Lives.

 

He still carries your rosary.

That accidental rosary that I sent two of

And you hung on the mirror in your truck

Just hours before.

“It’s no accident, these things,” you said.

I hope he understands.

Somehow.

 

A few days later

You took the second rosary

To Guatemala

And hung it

Where it would forever remind

Those who look

With eyes that know

Of love

Your love

Her love

His love

 

Stateside, we heard that you were gone

Through the tendrils of a grapevine.

There was nothing more,

No matter how hard we tried.

Only stony silence.

“Died in Guatemala.

On Sunday.”

That was it

Gone

Just gone

 

But then, you knew you were going.

You told me that if that young man waited another 7 years to call

He’d have to talk to the rosary

Because you wouldn’t be here

Anymore.

I didn’t understand then

But I surely do now.

The last words we said to each other

Were

“Love You”

Love Lives.

 

But Love means it’s even more painful

To have no closure

No resolution

No comforting rituals to soften the blow

That kind of mourning

Lasts forever.

 

Where are you, Douglas?

Where is your body resting?

What happened?

Were you brought back to the states?

Away from the land and people you love so much?

There is no obituary.

Who honored your life?

Anyone?

Anyplace?

Where?

Who brought flowers?

Were there flowers?

You loved roses.

Who came to sit by you?

And where?

Did they light candles?

Was there a priest?

So many questions.

No answers

No avenue for answers

Doors slammed

Chained and bolted.

I couldn’t even find the doors

For all the locks.

Silence.

 

Human beings need answers.

Answers give grief and loss

A resting place.

 

The days ticked by

One

Two

Where’s Douglas…

Thanksgiving

Christmas

100 days

200 days

So many days

And nights

In the darkness of unanswered questions

Prayers

And tears.

Then there was the dream

That I didn’t understand

But would, soon.

 

Finally

261 days

An email titled

“Friend of Douglas Rhodenbaugh Reaching Out”

Thank God,

Oh, thank God.

She loved you, too

And had answers

 

You rest in Guatemala

And died in only a way Douglas could

Imprisoned in a paperwork purgatory

That not even the best lawyers could spring you from.

Retrospectively,

It’s all hilariously funny

But not then,

And not while you were missing

In our world

Of no answers.

 

As your body waited in an icy chamber

For two long months

You must have been laughing

But Walter surely wasn’t

The only jail we ever had to spring you from was the morgue

And we couldn’t even do that!

 

Mayan traditions don’t take into account modern-day inconveniences

Like paperwork delays.

Wake and funeral photos and videos courtesy of Laura.

There, those who have joined the Creator

Are honored with a wake

Wrapped in beautiful hand-woven textiles

Then, both joyfully

And tearfully

Committed to where

Earthly remains

Spend their afterlife.

 

You must have sent the dream,

Because when I saw the picture

I recognized it immediately.

Even from the other side

You were trying to comfort me

As I continued to grieve,

Relentlessly.

I had given up hope of ever knowing.

But now,

My heart is so full.

 

You are so loved, Douglas.

Your bones were lovingly claimed

As theirs.

They came by the hundreds

Walking down the mountain

In muddy ruts

To honor you.

The Godfather

As they called you,

The man sent by God

To save their children

Raised up out of grief.

Like a Phoenix.

 

Not all fathers have children

In the traditional way,

Some are sent by God

To Father.

That was you, Douglas.

Your ministry,

Although we never called it that

Because you were far too humble.

We’ll just call it the mission

That saved your broken heart, too

Their hearts

And hands

Made you a beautiful casket

Gleefully painted

Probably while shedding tears

And sharing stories

Until they laughed.

You would have loved that.

You were there

With them.

 

At your wake

Your “good” picture

Adorned the top

Of your casket,

In the suit you wore

To your students’ graduations

And celebrations

In the states.

 

Your hat

With a raincovering, of course,

Candles,

Flowers,

Rose,s

Always red roses

Your favorite.

And love

So much love

As they gathered

To sit beside you

One last time.

 

Your wake lasted two full days

And nights

And oh, the stories

Your handmade coffin was a little “small”

Given the unusual circumstances

We’ll just explain as

Your necessary cremation

Your own unique version of

“Fire Ceremony.”

 

Your irredeemable sense of humor…

You must have been howling.

Finally, those who love you

Were able to mourn

Properly

Joyfully

Tearfully

Telling Douglas stories

Reliving your antics

Regaled.

 

But buried in all of that

Was a commitment

Many commitments

Seared in hearts

To carry on the ministry

Of love

Of the Godfather.

Of your huge

Huge heart.

So maybe your burial

Was a commitment ceremony

Because

Love Lives.

 

The bells rang

The market fell silent

The community

Hundreds of people

Walked with you

Escorted you

Up the hill

To the cathedral

The church you loved

So very much.

A place of peaceful solitude

Madonnas and crosses

Where you received your final Mass

The Misa de Cenizas

Mass of the Ashes.

 

And then, so lovingly,

The third generation,

The grandson of one

Of the children you lifted up,

Carried you,

Their Godfather,

Who took a spiritual vow

To watch over them

And lift them up

All of them

Carried you to the place you chose.

 

Where you stepped out

Into the cobblestone street

Each dawn

As the market stirred,

And awakened,

The church bells

Ringing.

The resplendent cemetery

Up the hill

On the mountainside

Where memories live

And come alive.

 

“How beautiful” you said

Indeed – how beautiful.

Love lives here

Not solemnly

Not here

Joyfully

Bursting with riotous color.

 

Did you know

That one day

After a bit of a “delay”

Your bones would rest here?

In a borrowed crypt

A family member of a family you were not born to

One of your children

All grown up

Did you always know?

I think so.

You were a seer.

 

The children you saved will walk by and honor you

By lighting candles

And bringing flowers

Until they are old.

Then their children

And their children too

Who can read

And write

Because of you

Sweet Douglas,

Dear Sweet Douglas.

 

How ironic

And perfect

That your funeral was on Halloween

The day before All Saints Day

And the day before the Day of the Dead

Which is not morbid

But a day of beautiful remembrance

And celebration

And your birthday

How perfect!

 

This means that every year,

Without fail,

For as long as eternity lasts on earth,

You will have fresh flowers on your grave

In the borrowed crypt

Where your earthly remains remain

Turning to dust

Joining the stars

For those of us left behind

To visit

And mourn

And celebrate.

The only mourning that needs to be done is that you are gone too soon.

 

The only thing we leave behind

Is a legacy.

Your legacy

Half a heart

Sewn in the Garden of Good.

Decades later,

100,000 books and crayons

Opportunities

Roots

Love.

Love Lives.

 

But that’s not all

Your story doesn’t end here

That is not the final chapter…

 

There’s a vow.

 

Douglas,

When Curtis died, I carried his love

And his clothes with me

For thirty years

The ones his mother threw away.

I refused to allow him to be erased

To be pitched away like trash.

 

I grieved his too-early death so deeply.

A soul-wound.

Just five years after you left for Guatemala

But it would be another quarter-century before

Fate intertwined our lives

Wove them together.

 

As what I thought was

My final loving act for Curtis

Honoring his life,

And yours,

I sewed my love and his clothes into a quilt

With scraps of mine too

Transformed them into light

And love

For you.

 

A quilt that arrived when you needed it most

A box on your porch

When you were alone

An hour after a heart surgery diagnosis,

Allowing you to collapse into your quilt

Wrapped around you

In sheltering love.

That surgery

Gave us a few extra years

But not nearly enough.

 

Now your quilt has continued its own journey of love

Healing

Anonymously

Someplace

With someone we don’t know

Purchased at the auction of your worldly goods.

Maybe they were drawn to the colors

Maybe you directed them there

Because they needed healing

Comforting,

Or love.

The threads just keep connecting.

That’s what love does.

It’s alive,

It travels

Infecting others.

It is not ours to own

Or direct.

Love Lives.

 

I walked with Curtis,

Curtis walked with you

Weaving our lives together in the tapestry of our mission

Your ministry

Partners

For oh so many years.

I could not honor you at your wake

Because we were still in the darkness.

I could not carry your bones

Because we did not know.

I could not put flowers on your grave for your birthday.

I could not bear witness then,

But I’ll do better now.

 

The candle has been lit

From an eternal flame

Grief has shapeshifted

Into Love.

 

Now the scraps from Curtis’s clothes

Will join yours

And mine

In Care Quilts.

Our ministry continues

Just a little differently

Than either of us imagined.

 

Together,

We will lift them up.

We will tell them

Without words

That they matter

And are not forgotten.

Scattering acts of love.

Love Lives.

 

I will not fail you,

I will not look away

You never did,

The price was your life.

The reward is theirs.

Those 100,000 seeds

Now in the third generation

Spreading love

And hope

And redemption.

“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.”

 

Need knows no season

Right is right.

There are fights waiting to be fought

And won

One by tiny one

Each sprout a victory

And each victory a sprout,

A seed.

Somehow.

Ours is not to know how

Ours is only to sew

The seeds

Seeds of love

So that others may reap

And grow

In the Garden of Good.

I know you’re with me

I can feel your presence

And see your light

As we walk into the future

Spreading love

Together.

Boundless,

Endless,

Timeless.

I love you.

Love Lives.

Douglas’s photo.

Your Wonderful AI Assistant – Sometimes Wrong, Never Unsure, Always Convincing

I should add, “…and With Absolutely No Judgment”, because AI is not a sentient being and has neither intelligence, ethics, nor common sense.

I’ve put off writing about AI, but several recent experiences have convinced me that too many people are trusting AI without understanding either its strengths or its dangers. That made me realize that I absolutely MUST write this series.

Here’s the challenge, though, and the quandary, which is why I’ve hesitated.

I can’t talk about the good, without talking about the problems and abject failures. I can’t do the reverse either, because there’s absolutely an upside. Plus, AI is getting “better” every day. Better is subjective, depending on how AI is applied.

I’m neither an AI evangelist nor a doomsayer. I’m a cautious practitioner.

Like it or not, AI is here to stay, and it’s already embedded in your life in ways you might not realize or recognize.

AI has great potential for good, helping us in our daily lives. It also has an equivalent potential for evil. There’s a very dangerous aspect of AI, and you absolutely need to be aware so that you can take steps to protect yourself.

That said, AI provides extremely useful tools…under some circumstances. I use it for something almost every day – but NOT to write my articles. These are my words. Yes, I do sometimes ask AI for input, and I’ll share how I balance my work and my words with AI assistance – like creating the graphic in this article.

AI is really about education and balance.

To achieve that, I’m writing a four-part series that will be:

  • Encouraging but not advocating for AI
  • Friendly rather than alarmist
  • Skeptical and vigilant rather than anti-AI
  • Educational rather than preachy
  • Focused on critical thinking
  • Warning when necessary

I’ve been working with AI since the beginning in a very restricted, measured way. I use AI regularly, tactically, and cautiously, with huge guardrails. I took the original classes from Mark Thompson and Steve Little, AI experts that I absolutely trust, to learn how to use AI both productively and safely. That was a couple of years ago, and a lot has changed since then. I make it a priority to stay current. We’ve been growing as a community ever since, celebrating our successes and analyzing the failures.

Mark and Steve say:

  1. Know your tool
  2. Know your limitations
  3. Know your data

I would add

  • Know your subject
  • Know what can (and will) go wrong

You absolutely, positively must check and verify everything AI tells you, without fail.

Being trusting and over-confident is a fool’s errand and assuredly will come back to bite you, sooner than later. It’s essential to be hypervigilant.

In a nutshell, AI is a wonderful servant, although sometimes it has an attitude and doesn’t listen to directions well, but it’s a terrible authority. AI, much like my teenagers used to do, fibs very convincingly and with impunity.

As the adults in the room, it’s up to us to always monitor and check AI output – and learn to recognize it when others use it as well.

That’s the purpose of this series. I’ll be combining my computer science background and genetic genealogy expertise with a couple of years of hard knocks in the AI arena to help everyone be safe and effective. I’ll be sharing successes and failures, good examples, and do I EVER have a great bad example for you.

Articles will include:

  • All About AI – What is AI and How Does It Work?
  • AI Assistants – The Good, the Bad, the Ugly and the Clandestine
  • AI and Genealogy – Brick Walls, Breakthroughs and Blunders
  • The AI Threat Landscape – Evil, Dangers and You

My Dad used to tell me, “You don’t have to roll in every mudpuddle that the rest of us have rolled in just to come out the other side saying it’s wet and it’s muddy.”

Some lessons are better learned by someone else going first.

Technology changes, but human nature doesn’t. The tools may be new and revolutionary, but the risks of overconfidence, misplaced trust, and wishful thinking are as old as humanity itself. So come along and join me for the next article, where I’ll share what finally pushed me over the edge to write this series.

_____________________________________________________________

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Reconstructing the World of Philippe Mius’s Unknown Mi’kmaq Wife (c1663-c1685) – 52 Ancestors #480

We don’t know her name.

More than three centuries after her death, she remains elusive and mysterious. No known records reveal her identity. Yet, she appears in the shadows, waiting for us to find her.

She’s Philippe Mius’s first wife. For a long time, that was all we knew. Little by little, we add pieces of evidence.

We must reconstruct her life indirectly. Her life story begins to come into focus through the history of the Mi’kmaq people, Philippe’s life, the lives of her children and descendants, and her mitochondrial DNA.

Most unnamed women disappear completely from history. We’re not letting her do that.

Philippe’s First Wife

Evidence shows that Philippe Mius d’Azy had at least two wives. He had five children born between 1679 and 1684. In the 1686 census, he was living in Port Royal with his father and without either a wife or children. Beginning about 1687, he had additional children with a Native woman named Marie, born about 1670, who was too young to have been the mother of those earlier children.

We know that Philippe lived most of his life among the Mi’kmaq people. The only exception seems to be that 1686 census.

The mitochondrial DNA results from the descendants of daughter, Francoise Mius, and her older sister, Marie, fall into haplogroup X2a2, which is unquestionably Native American. Their mother, Philippe’s first wife, is the woman who remains nameless and about whom we are writing.

There is confusion about the haplogroups of the children from Philippe’s second wife, which is probably a result of confusing genealogy. It doesn’t help that he had daughters named Marie and Francoise with both wives.

To learn more about the mothers of Philippe’s children, we would need mitochondrial DNA tests from the direct matrilineal descendants (female to female to the current generation, which can be male) of each daughter with solid genealogical trees back to Philippe’s daughters, who are:

  • Marie Mius born about 1680, married Francois Viger about 1697. They lived among the Native people at Quimakagan, present-day Robert’s Island, in 1705 when they had their children baptized in Port Royal. They are living at “Cap Sable” in 1708. It’s unclear where they lived after that.
  • Francoise Mius born around 1684, married Jacques Bonnevie, a French soldier. We have her mitochondrial DNA and she matches several other people who descend from Francois and her sister, Marie, born in 1680.

The 1686 census where Philippe Mius is enumerated with his father in Port Royal.

  • Marie Mius, born about 1689, married Jean Baptiste Thomas, who was a Mi’kmaq chief in 1726.
  • Madeleine Mius, born about 1694, married Jean-Baptiste Guedry before November 1708. They lived among the Native people at Merligueche, present-day Lunenburg, and La Heve.
  • Francoise Mius, born about 1697 in La Heve, married an unknown man about 1717, and Pierre Celier about 1733, where she is noted as being from La Have. No documented children.
  • Anne Marie Mius, born about 1705 in Merleguiche, married Paul Guidry/Guedry about 1720, and lived among the Native people.

One of the reasons that we believe Philippe had two wives is that the names of the first two daughters are also included in the second group of children who were born after the 1686 census, where Philippe is living in Port Royal.

Furthermore, his “second wife,” Marie, was born about 1670, so she was not old enough, based on her reported age of 38 in the 1708 census, to be the mother of Philippe’s first child, Joseph, born about 1679.

I have not listed Philippe’s sons, above, as they are not relevant to his wives’ mitochondrial DNA. Males don’t pass their mitochondrial DNA on to their children. Only females do. However, there were no known children between Francoise in 1684 and a son born about 1688. In other words, it appears that his first wife died between 1684 when Francoise was born, and 1688 when his next child was born.

Sadly, she would have died quite young. Probably just 21 or 22.

Aside from mitochondrial DNA testing for Philippe’s first wife, which we have today, the original information that both of Philippe’s wives were Native comes from a letter from a priest to his bishop, documented in the late Stephen A. White’s book, Dictionnaire généalogique des familles acadiennes, and reported on WikiTree, stating:

Unknown Amerindien married about 1678 and (married) Marie Amerindien married date unknown (to) Phillipe d’Azy Mius.

Unfortunately, the date of the letter is not known, but there’s no reason to doubt the authenticity of the information.

In addition to that, in the 1708 Indian census, Philippe Mieusse, age 48, is living with his wife, Marie, age 38, and their children, beginning with their oldest son, Jacques who is 20. The location is “Indians from La Heve and surrounding area.” This tells us that Philippe has been living among the Native people for more than 20 years, or since 1687 or so. Most people have French first names, which suggests they have been baptized, but Native surnames.

Early European Encounters

We know frustratingly little about Philippe’s first wife. However, we do know a great deal about the world in which she lived. To understand her life, we need to understand the Mi’kmaq people among whom she was born, raised, married, and ultimately buried.

We may not know her name, but we can reconstruct her world

How did the history and relationship between the Mi’kmaq people and the French evolve? While Philippe’s wife hadn’t been born yet when that relationship began, it profoundly influenced what happened over the next century.

In 1604 and 1605, Pierre Dugua, Sieur de Mons, along with cartographer Samuel de Champlain, explored Nova Scotia and the surrounding region.

DeMons established the first mill on the Lequille, now Allain River, above Port Royal, where a replica stands today, and a habitation or fort was designed by Champlain and built across the river.

On Champlain’s map, you can see the mill in the bottom right hand corner, labeled with letter “I”, or roman numeral “1.” I’m not sure which it is. Across the river, the habitation is labeled by “X.”

The original habitation was burned in 1613 by English raiders from Virginia, but a faithful reproduction has been built to welcome visitors and demonstrate life in an early French fort in Nova Scotia, where trading took place with the Mi’kmaq people.

Trading between the French and Native people took place at the habitation.

Marc Lescarbot, a lawyer and one of the earliest French explorers, first wrote about the Mi’kmaq in 1606, recording details of their daily life. It’s interesting that he recorded that the Mi’kmaq greeted the French and Basque traders by saying “Nikmaq!”, meaning “my kin-friends” or “my brothers” and the French referred to the Mi’kmaq as their “nikmaqs.”

He was particularly impressed by their welcoming nature, recording in his diary that they warmly greeted any stranger who was not a known enemy, and possessed “mutual charity” towards others. Resources, including food, were shared with their entire community to ensure survival.

During a time when Native people were often viewed as savages, or worse, by Europeans, Lescarbot said that they were highly intelligent, had “deep eloquence” of speech along with “much judgment and good sense.”

The French were particularly interested in furs, which were harvested primarily in the winter. Initially, the Mi’kmaq people only hunted enough animals to address their immediate needs, so they didn’t have furs, skins, or pelts to trade – but before long, that changed.

The Mi’kmaq established a trade relationship with the French, but that led to the Tarrateen War between the Mi’kmaw and their rivals, the Abenaki in Maine. The worst part lasted for eight years, but tensions and raids persisted for more than a quarter century.

In 1606, Lescarbot and Champlain wrote that Chief Membertou held a funeral for his son-in-law Panoniac, a Mi’kmaw sakmow, or grand chief, who had been killed by a member of the Passamaquoddy tribe. Seeking revenge for this and other acts of hostility, in July, 1607, Membertou led 500 warriors in a raid on the Passamaquoddy village in present-day Saco, Maine, killing 20 of their warriors and two leaders.

Extrapolating from later census information, if Membertou had 500 warriors, that would suggest the tribe consisted of around 1,500 or maybe as many as 2,000 people – assuming he took all the warriors with him. No warrior would have wanted to be left behind.

In 1607, the French left Port Royal because King Henri IV revoked the fur trade monopoly that had been fueling the settlement. Upon their departure, the French entrusted the fort to Membertou’s care. He faithfully guarded it until they returned in June of 1610.

On June 24, 1610, Membertou was baptized in the Catholic faith as a gesture of alliance, taking the English name of Henri after the French King. However, he appeared not to comprehend the scope of what Catholicism meant. The following year, on his deathbed, Membertou stated that he didn’t want to go to Christian heaven because he wanted to be with his people. He died in September, 1611, someplace between 80 and over 100 years of age. He was reported to be between 102 and 104, but that age is greeted with some skepticism.

Although Membertou’s age is unclear, he recalled that he was a fully grown married man with a family when he met French explorer, Jacques Cartier during his first voyage in 1534. That would place his birth year well before 1514, and probably around 1504. Membertou’s son was over 60 in 1610, so we know he was at least 80.

In 1612, the Mi’kmaq raided the Abenaki villages in Maine, but tragically, they returned with a plague or illness of some sort that killed about three-fourths of the Mi’kmaq people.

In genetic parlance, this is approaching a bottleneck event, and it’s why knowing that Membertou had 500 warriors in 1607 is important.

By 1620, when the Pilgrims arrived in what would one day become Massachusetts, King James of England granted Acadia to Sir William Alexander, who named it New Scotland, the name that would morph to Nova Scotia.

Philippe Mius’s first Native wife was probably born about 1663, a few years after his 1660 birth, in the Pobomcoup areas, the region near today’s Pubnico, or in other known Mi’kmaq villages.

The Mi’kmaq people who met these early French explorers would probably have been two or three generations older than her, and there’s no evidence to indicate that she was directly or recently related to Chief Membertou.

However, given the level of endogamy that exists within a closed population, everyone in the tribe was probably related to Membertou in multiple ways. Before European arrival and colonization, there were no other people available to marry and have children with.

By Michka B – Own work à partir des images bitmap (Mikmaq), CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=67251179

The Mi’kmaq were regionally migratory, semi-nomadic people, and both the Port Royal and Pobomcoup bands were part of the Gespogoitnag or Kespu’kwitk district that encompassed southwest Nova Scotia. Kespu’kwitk means “land ends” or “end of flow.”

Although trading slowed somewhat after 1613 when the English attacked and burned the fort, it didn’t stop, as the French never completely left.

In 1631, when France regained control of Nova Scotia, Charles St. Estienne de La Tour built Fort Sainte Marie at the mouth of the Saint John River, across the bay from Port Royal.

The following year, Isaac de Razilly established a fort at Le Have, and three or four years later, the first French families arrived.

In 1635, Razilly died, and Charles d’Aulnay took his place as Governor, moving the seat of Acadia to Port Royal, a more sheltered and agriculturally more productive area, between 1636 and 1640. D’Aulnay drowned in 1650.

In 1651, La Tour, the new governor, brought Philippe Mius d’Entremont (Sr.), with his wife, Madeleine Helie, and their first child, to Acadia, to be his second-in-command.

In 1653, Mius selected the area known as Pobomcoup, today’s Pubnico area surrounding the harbor, to establish his seigneury, which elevated him to the status of Baron of Pobomcoup.

A year later, 1654, the English retook Nova Scotia and retained it until 1667.

Philippe Mius’s grant area, and where he likely built his manor house near Pubnico.

Philipp Mius d’Entremont Sr. built a manor house someplace at Pobomcoup, probably within the red square above, and expanded his family.

Philippe Mius Jr., who eventually married into and lived among the Mi’kmaq, was born around 1660 in Pobomcoup. The only other residents in this remote outpost were the LaTour family, at least 22 miles away by water, and the Native people who lived at and had frequented Pobomcoup for generations.

In the 1671 Acadian census, Philippe Mius d’Entremont is shown as a child with his family, and only his family, in “The settlement of Pobomcou near the Island of Tousquet.” Their only neighbors would have been the Mi’kmaq people.

In that census, Philippe is age 11. His oldest sister has married and lives in Port Royal, his oldest brother, Jacques, is missing from the census, his brother Abraham, 13, is shown, as is his baby sister, who is 2.

Perhaps the most important thing about this census is that there are no other European children, so Philippe’s playmates, aside from his siblings, are the Native children living nearby.

Philippe’s father, the Baron of Pobomcoup, had built a manor house that would have served as a gathering place and trading post. Everyone would have come there to trade, and the Native people may have made their summer encampment nearby. Or, perhaps Philippe built his home intentioinally close to the Mi’kmaq village to facilitate easy trading.

Trade goods would have included skins in return for metal objects, specifically knives, hatchets, awls, kettles, and sometimes woven cloth.

Some skins, mostly moose and deer, were scraped with shells to remove the fur. These are beautifully painted today with paint made from natural dyes, but we don’t know whether the skins they traded then were decorative.

While not specific to Nova Scotia, French chroniclers reported stunningly beautiful painted hides, collectively called Matachees.

Within the tribe, painted objects weren’t simply decorative, but served a larger purpose, integrating spiritual protection with social identity and survival. Depending on the size of the hide, painted skins provided robes, cloaks, blankets, leggings, detachable sleeves, and of course, moccasins. Ceremonial clothing, including moccasins, were even more festive and decorative.

Additionally, painting the hide honored the animal that gave its life to feed and clothe the community’s members. Absolutely nothing was wasted.

Special occasions, like weddings, political councils, important feasts and sacred ceremonies were marked with elaborate, bleached moosehide robes that were painted with red and black ochre.

This might provide a clue about the wedding of Philippe Mius (Jr.) with his Mi’kmaq wife. I can’t help but wonder if, given his father’s status, he married a high-status daughter as well. Traditionally, Mi’kmaq marriages were family arrangements that focused on mutual cooperation, but included the consent of the bride. If the families agreed and the couple consented, they were expected to develop a lifelong bond. Did Philippe ask his father to approach her father to discuss a possible marriage? In traditional Mi’kmaq society, the young man would avoid looking at or speaking directly to his future wife until his father had spoken with hers – although no doubt there were numerous furtive glances to indicate interest combined with the local grapevine.

Philippe would have spent his formative years with the Native people mastering the skills necessary to survive in the maritime wilderness and along the shoreline.

He would have been able to handle a canoe, just like the Mi’kmaq children. He would probably not have dressed in European clothes, which would simply have been in the way.

He would have learned to find, harvest and braid sweetgrass, along with other skills such as how to construct a birchbark canoe.

The next Acadian census isn’t until 1678, at which time Philippe Mius d’Azy would be about 18. His father has been appointed as the King’s Attorney and now, the family is living in Port Royal – except – Philippe is not living with them.

He was probably living with his brothers in Pobomcoup. He may never have made the move to Port Royal when his father, as the King’s Attorney, moved, sometime after 1671.

It’s not surprising that Philippe, who came to be known as Philippe d’Azy as his dit name, would marry into the Mi’kmaq tribe. I’m referring to him by “d’Azy” to differentiate him from his father at this point.

The Mi’kmaq have fished at Pobomcoup from time immemorial, and the word Pobomcoup is taken from their language, meaning something similar to, “Place where we drill holes in the ice to fish.”

Philippe grew up with only his siblings and the Mi’kmaq children as playmates. He would have learned to hunt and fish with the boys, and when old enough, clearly a young lady caught his eye.

Philippe may have been missing in the 1678 census because he was living with his future wife’s parents, performing the trial of “bride-service.” A suitor typically lived with the bride’s parents for some time, up to a year, before a wedding was agreed to, demonstrating that he could hunt and work sufficiently to provide for the daughter and his own household.

Given the status of Philippe’s father, this arrangement could have been somewhat different. He would still have been expected to gift her parents with beaver pelts and other goods.

Weddings were communal, celebratory feasting events. People ate blueberries and meat, sang traditional songs, and danced in ceremonial regalia. Sacred rituals would have included smudging with sweetgrass, a sacred pipe ceremony, and tying a feather to the side of each other’s heads – an act equivalent to contemporary wedding rings.

To close the ritual, the couple was wrapped in a single blanket, symbolizing both visually and spiritually their new life together and the journey they were undertaking as a single unit.

Weddings bonded more than the couple, they formed alliances between families and sometimes villages.

In this case, they symbolically connected both worlds.

We do know that these traditions continued despite Catholic conversion. The Mi’kmaq eventually blended aspects of both.

Philippe and his wife probably married at Pobomcoup, since that’s likely where they met. It would be interesting to know if both families attended, or how they handled the very different European and Mi’kmaq traditions and expectations.

The only way we know where Philippe d’Azy was and what he was doing with his life is by piecing his life together, and by extension his wife, the Mi’kmaq mother of his children.

Let’s see what we can infer about her life from his story and the lives of their children.

Philippe d’Azy’s mother died between 1677 and 1678, probably in Port Royal given that’s where his father and younger siblings were living in 1678.

Based on the birth year of their oldest child, named Joseph d’Azy Mius, around 1679, Philippe d’Azy had married a year or so earlier.

Philippe was young, only about 18, so his wife was probably around the same age, or perhaps slightly younger. Based on the ages of the Mi’kmaq women in the 1708 census, 15 or 16 seems to be the most common marriage age, so let’s say that in 1678, Philippe’s bride was 15 or 16, so born about 1662 or 1663.

We have absolutely no idea what her name was, but it could have been either Marie or Francoise, because her two daughters were given those names, in that order.

I feel badly that I have to refer to her namelessly, but I’m not going to “assign” a name, because that’s how incorrect names become part of legend. We already have that problem with Philippe’s second Native wife, Marie, who, at some point got labeled with the surname CoyoteWhite or Coyote Blanc. Nope, no documentation whatsoever to support that.

Philippe’s oldest children, born prior to 1686, so to his first wife, were:

  • Joseph Mius born about 1679 and married a Native woman named Marie about 1699
  • Marie Mius born about 1680 and married Francois Viger about 1697
  • Mathieu Mius born about 1682 and married a Native woman named Madeleine about 1706
  • Maurice Mius born about 1682 and married a Native woman named Marguerite about 1702
  • Francoise Mius born about 1684 married Jacques Bonnevie, a soldier, about 1701

It’s presumed that the woman Philippe married around 1678 is the same woman who gave birth to Francoise about 1684, but that could be in error.

It’s possible that Francoise’s older siblings had more than one mother, but it’s unlikely given that descendants of both Marie born in 1680 and Francoise born about 1684 carry Native American haplogroup X2a2 and match exactly.

However, given that we know there weren’t many Mi’kmaq, and that they had survived at least one bottleneck event in 1612, Marie and Francoise could possibly have the same haplogroup and not share the same mother. In other words, their mothers could be siblings, cousins, or otherwise share the same direct matrilineal line ancestor.

I would also assume that because all five children have “French” first names that they were baptized at some point, either at birth by Philippe, who we know baptized children born in 1702 and later, or by a visiting missionary priest.

The children probably also had Mi’kmaq names used within the family and community.

We also know that Marie was a favorite Catholic name, as in Marie, the mother of Christ.

When Mi’kmaq people were baptized, they were given European, in this case, French names, so Philippe’s wife probably had a French biblical name. For that matter, we really don’t know if Philippe’s family was Protestant or Catholic when they arrived in Acadia. The La Tour family was Protestant. Eventually, the Mius family was Catholic, certainly before 1702, but we don’t know when that occurred.

There are no parish records prior to 1702. Earlier records were lost or destroyed.

Their first child, Joseph Mius was born around 1679, probably in or near Pobomcoup, the general area surrounding Pubnico Harbour today.

Joseph, like his father, lived among the Native people.

The 1708 Indian Census

The November 1708 census is known as “The Indian Census” and lists the Mi’kmaq people by location, name, age and by wigwam. This is the only census in which at least some are listed by their Native names. The census records all of the Indians who reside on the coast of Nova Scotia, including Port Royal and along the western and southern coastlines, plus at Pintagouet (Castine, Maine) and Canibeky (the Kennebec River area). It includes a summary of the number of men and boys capable of going to war, meaning those 15 or older, which may have been the motivation for taking the census in the first place.

The Indians at Port Royal include several widows and orphans, for a total of 102 people. Cape Sable has 97 people. Port Razoir has three families with 15 people. La Heve has 127 people. Les Mines has 59 people. Mouscoudabouet has 196 people. Chiguenictou has 100 people.

There’s a note that the Indians of Pintgouet were enumerated by wigwam and not by family by Father de la Chasse, their missionary. Twenty-six wigwams housed 388 people, or about 15 people per wigwam.

This is probably insightful as to how Philippe’s wife’s family lived, and how they lived together after they married. Communal living would explain why, after Philippe’s wife died, their children were raised by their Native relatives, not taken by their father to Port Royal in 1686. Philippe must have been utterly miserable there, because he was gone soon after.

Another note says that the Indians from Canikeby were not in their villages, so the census-taker could not know the names of their family members or the number of children, they “being sometimes in Canada and sometimes on the other coast.”

On the St. Jean River, they counted only the 82 men and boys capable of carrying arms.

The “Indian Census” totaled 1305 people, with 439 being classified as “warriors”. That’s not very many people. I wonder how many there would have been if three-fourth of their population hadn’t perished a century earlier. For adults old enough to have completed their family, the number of surviving children seems to be someplace around four. That means their population roughly doubled in every generation.

Backing the census number up by generation, there would only have been about 650 people in 1673, 35 years, or a very long generation, earlier, and about 325 in 1638. The plague occurred about 1612, which tells us that the population was probably reduced to around 165 people, or maybe between 165 and 325. This is close to our earlier approximation of about 1500 people before 75% died, which would have left about 375.

Some estimates of Indigenous “plague deaths” between 1612 and 1619, known also as “The Great Dying”, reach as high as 90-95%. Given that the affliction did not seem to affect the French fishermen, it was likely a result of exposure to European diseases, or the disease carried by the rats on their ships. Unfortunately, the Europeans viewed this unfortunate epidemic as “God’s hand” in freeing up the lands for European colonization.

It’s hard to imagine that only around 300 people, or maybe even fewer, stood between the Mi’kmaq and extinction.

Perhaps their scattered locations along the coastline, as reflected in the 1708 census, helped to save them.

Under the title, Cape Sable Indians, which is not close to La Heve where Philippe and his second wife are living, we find:

  • Mathieu Emieusse, 26, Madelaine, 20, with Joachim, 1

This is Mathieu, born about 1682, Philippe Mius d’Azy’s son with his first wife.

Under the title, Indians from La Heve and surrounding area:

  • Philippe Mieusse, age 48, is listed at Le Have and surrounding area in the 10th wigwam, with his wife, Marie, age 38, son Jacques 20, son Pierre, 17, son Francois, 8, son Philipe 5, daughter Francoise, 11, and daughter Anne, 3.

This is Philippe Mius d’Entremont Sr.’s son, Philippe Mius d’Azy, born about 1660, living at Le Have, with his second wife, Marie, a Mi’kmaq woman.

Under the title, Indians from Mouscoudabouet:

  • Maurice Mieuse, age 26, is living with his wife Margueritte, 27 and their two children in the 5th wigwam at Mouscoudabouet.

Mouscoudabouet was an early combined French and Native settlement located about 80 miles northeast of La Heve by water, about 20 miles further east of present-day Halifax.

Maurice, born about 1682, is Philippe d’Azy’s son with his first Native wife.

Following that, we find a list of “the French settled on the East Coast – the French of Cape Sable.”

The couples, with the spelling remaining unchanged, include:

  • Julien auboiss, 67, and Jeanne aimee, 45
  • Gabriel mouleson, 23, and Marie aubois, 22
  • francois Vige, 46, Marie mieusse, 28

Marie is Philippe’s daughter by his first wife, who married Francois Viger. This suggests her birth about 1680.

  • Francois Tourangeau, 66, Marie Pitre, 42
  • Marc Pitre, 37, Jeanne brun, 36
  • Joseph dazy, 35, Marie tourangeau, 24, with son Joseph, 8, Charles, 6, francois, 5, Angelique, 4, Marie Joseph, 2

This is Joseph, born about 1679 (although this subtracts to 1673), the son of Philippe Mius d’Azy with his first wife. In 1715, Joseph received land, where he is described as “part Indian who dwelt at Port Le Tore,” and is the son-in-law of “Tourangeaut”. In this census, Tourangeaut is probably Francois Tourangeau, with his wife Marie Pitre.

  • Jean Pitre, 33, francoise Babin, 25

At Port Rasoirs:

  • Claude Bertram, 50, Catherine Pitre, 40
  • Etienne Chicau (no age or other people)
  • Jean Guy, 70, Marie Lureau, 40

At La Heve:

  • Pierre Briart, 55, Marie Thibaudeau, 46
  • Joseph Boutin, 32, Marie Briart, 22
  • Martin Briart, 5, Marie Godet, 28
  • Jean Godet, 58, Jeanne Briart, 62
  • Rene Labauve, 30, Anne Briart, 21
  • Jean Petit, 58, Jeanne Fauueau, 60
  • Claude Guedry, 60, Marguerite Petit pas, 48
  • Jean baptiste Guedry, 24, Madelaine Mieusse, 14

Madelaine, born about 1694, is the daughter of Philippe and his first wife.

In 1726 Jean Baptiste Guidry, and his namesake son, who was about 16, were both kidnapped by the English in the harbour at Merligueche, present-day Lunenburg, and hanged for piracy in Boston, on November 13, 1726. Philip Mius d’Azy’s son, Philip, about age 23, by his second wife, Marie, and his son Joseph from his first marriage, about age 53, were also kidnapped and hanged on the same day.

They had all probably been living as a family, here, at Merligueche.

Philippe d’Azy was still living at that time, although I wouldn’t be surprised if losing two of his sons, his son-in-law, and his grandson killed him. We never find him again in any record. He would have been about 66.

Philippe’s first wife, whoever she was, had “walked on” some 40 years earlier and was waiting to greet and comfort her son, Joseph Mius d’Azy, his half-brother, Philippe Mius d’Azy, her son-in-law Jean-Baptiste Guidry and grandson, also Jean-Baptiste Guidry.

Say their names.

While their death was astoundingly tragic, traditional Mi’kmaq belief is that death is a natural transition, and one’s ancestors are waiting to guide and embrace those who are passing into the spirit realm where the spirit lives on.

In the 1708 Indian Census, Philippe’s children were scattered over 300 miles along interlinked coastal villages in the southern and southwestern portion of Nova Scotia, and Philippe Mius d’Azy’s fifth child, by his first wife, Francoise, had married Jacques Bonnevie about 1701 and was living at Port Royal.

Even though these families lwere enumerated far apart along the coastline, they clearly sailed back and forth, given how many were in the same place on that fateful day in 1726. Various records place Philippe along a very long stretch of coastline throughout his life – all the way from Port Royal to Musquodoboit Harbour.

Francoise Mius is the only one of Philippe’s first Mi’kmaq wife’s children who did not retain a Native lifestyle and live among the Native people as an adult. Born about 1684, she and Jacques Bonnevie, a soldier, lived with their family in Port Royal among the French families.

Courtesy Nova Scotia Archives

Prior to that, Francoise is not found in the census, so would have been living among the Mi’kmaq.

Given how scattered the family is in 1708, it’s impossible to tell whether Philippe lived at Pobomcoup or elsewhere along the coastline with his first wife. They were only married for six or 7 years before she passed on – but that was half a dozen summers and winters where they would transition from their summer village to a winter location.

The Mi’kmaq people led a lifestyle in tune with nature, moving to where hunting and fishing were abundant and where safe shelter could be found during the various seasons of the year.

The Mi’kmaq people were seasonally migratory and moved from place to place.

Their wigwams, consisting of five or six poles, lashed together and covered with birch bark sewn together with spruce were easily assembled in less than a day by the women. Floors were covered with boughs, animals skins and furs.

The Mi’kmaq had few personal belongings, but they packed up their wigwams and hunting tools each season as they moved to the next location.

They lived in villages near Canso, Rivere Sainte Marie, Chebucto, La Heve, Port Medway, Port Rossignol (Shelburne), Ministiguesch (Port La Tour), Merligueche, Ouimakagan (near Pubnico), and other locations. For a more detailed discussion of their village sites, see Bill Wicken, “Encounters with Tall Sails and Tall Tales: Mi’kmaq Society, 1600-1760”.

The Port Royal Parish Register

The Port Royal parish register, on October 22 and 23, 1705, shows that several mixed Native/Acadian children were baptized who had previously been baptized at Cape Sable, or nearby. Residences of their parents include Outkrukagan, Pombomkou, Puikmakagan, OneKmakagan, Mirliguish, Petite Riviere, Merligueshe, Port Multois, and Kayigomias.

This cluster of 1705 baptisms within a day or so of each other makes me wonder if there was some kind of community baptismal event where everyone who wanted their child officially baptized climbed into a canoe or fishing boat and set out for Port Royal, where they had access to a priest. Conversely, the gathering could have been a harvest festival, Mawio’mi (powwow), or celebration of some type. One thing is clear, lots of non-resident people were visiting Port Royal that weekend and they probably didn’t visit regularly since the children being baptized were born across several years.

Conversely, it’s also possible that the priest visited Pobomcoup or someplace along the coastline and baptized everyone there, recording the events in the parish register. Have church will travel!

Many people were recorded with place names as their surnames, like Anne de Pobomkou.

There was only one Catholic church on the western shores of Acadia – at Port Royal. We know that children were born elsewhere and baptized at birth by someone nearby when no priest was present. Sometimes, they were later baptized by a priest and the baptism was recorded in the parish register.

It’s interesting that “Philippe de Pobomkou,” who signed as Philippe Muis, baptized children in 1702. This identifies him, but it may also indicate where he’s living at that time. Or at least during that part of the year in 1702.

  • In 1704, Philippe’s daughter, Francoise, the one born in 1684, had a child baptized where her name is recorded as “Françoise Muis dit Beaumon.” Her husband, Jacques Bonnevie, was a soldier.
  • In February 1708 Francoise Mius the wife of Baumont stood as Godmother to a baptism.
  • In June of 1712, Jacques Mius de Pobomkou and Agathe de la Tour stood as godparents at a baptism, both French who lived at Pobomcoup. This is Philippe’s brother and his wife.
  • In 1730, a baptism took place at the house of “Sieur Poboncour at Cape Sable”, which would be Philippe d’Azy’s brother, Jacques, where Joseph Mieux was listed as deceased. Joseph was one of the men hanged in 1726 in Boston.

Some years ago, Fran Wilcox extracted the Mi’kmaq marriages from the parish registers of St. Jean-Baptiste Church of Port Royal, and they are published, here.

Many of the Native people are listed under the French names they adopted or were bestowed upon them at baptism, along with their family members.

The balance of Mius family records, meaning those not shown above, seem to be from Philippe d’Azy’s marriage to his second wife, although I can’t identify everyone. There is obviously a deeper history, and perhaps more children and grandchildren, than we’ve been able to document.

Some families can be correlated to the 1708 Native census, but others are mysteries.

  • On June 20, 1726, Marie, the wife of Francois Mieux, Philippe’s son by his second wife, stood as a godmother. Marie has no surname, which, based on other entries, probably indicates that she is Native. Francois was appointed by the French in 1742 as Chief. He lived at Merligueche but in 1761, he signed as chief of the Indians at La Heve. This probably reflected seasonal travels.

Some baptisms and marriages state that some of the people involved were “Mi’kmaq of Cape Sable.” However, that does not mean they stayed in one place from season to season.

  • In March 1728, Gabriel Thomas was baptized. He was born to Jean Baptiste Thomas, a Mi’kmaq “of this river” (Annapolis River), and mother, Marie Mius (daughter of Philippe Mius and his second wife, Marie). Francois Mius, Marie’s brother, and Anne Thomas, the daughter of Jean Baptiste Thomas, stood as Godparents.
  • In February of 1730, Marie, the 30-year-old wife of Jean Baptiste Mius, of the Mi’kmaq Nation was buried. This would be very young for the Jean-Baptiste Mius born in 1713, the son of Joseph Mius, to have married, but I don’t know of other candidates.
  • In October 1732, a baptism of a Mi’kmaq child was witnessed by Charles Amiraux and Claire Mieux, relationship not stated. Claire’s identity is unknown.
  • In April of 1733, Marie Mieux is noted as a Mi’kmaq mother. Husband Baptiste Thomas, daughter Clere born in 1732 and baptized. Marie Mieux is Philippe’s daughter with his second wife, Marie. Jean-Baptiste Thomas was a Mi’kmaq man and future chief of the Mi’kmaq “of the river at Port Royal” in 1726.
  • In April of 1734, a Mi’kmaq child was baptized with Madeleine Mius listed as the Mi’kmaq mother, along with Baptiste Pierret, a Mi’kmaq father.
  • In August 1735, Francoise Myus, widow of the second time of the late Rene grande Claude of La Heve, Mi’kmaq bride, married Pierre Ceiller, a Mi’kmaq from the Annapolis River. This Francoise is the daughter of Philippe and his second wife, Marie.

Robichau family members witnessed many of these events

Philippe’s Wife’s Death

We don’t know when Philippe’s first wife died, but she had her first child, Joseph, in 1679 when they were newlyweds, followed by Marie in about 1680. Mathieu and Maurice are estimated to have been born about 1682 and may have been twins. Finally, Francoise was born about 1684, but assuredly before the census was taken in 1686.

If was born about 1663, married in 1678 at 15, and had her first child the following year – she would have only been about 21 when daughter Francoise was born in 1684. We don’t know exactly when she died, but it could have been anything from Francoise’s birth to the 1686 census where Philippe is found in Port Royal with his father.

Given that there is no child, or no child that survived in 1685 or 1686, and Philippe remarried sometime in 1687, she probably died in 1684 or 1685, leaving her five children behind. It’s certainly possible that she died in childbirth with the next child, who also perished along with her.

Communal living makes so much sense in circumstances like this.

What do we know about her short life?

From 1679 until 1685, Philippe was engaged in the fur trade and eel fishing at Ouikmakagan, a summer village on or near Robert’s Island, an eel-fishing settlement near the Tusket River.

The Mi’kmaq people fished for whales and porpoises along the shore, and gathered shellfish.

This is also where their eldest daughter, Marie, lived with François Vignee (Viger), so this must have been very familiar territory.

During those years, before her passing, Philippe’s first wife would have resided here with him, among these pristine islands, moving seasonally, as was the Mi’kmaq tradition.

We also know that in 1685, Philippe lived in a town called Ministiguesche, a native village, with his brother Abraham, near present-day Barrington Head. Barrington Head is near Fort LaTour, and Abraham married a LaTour.

That makes sense, as Ministiguesche wasn’t far from Pobomcoup, may have been in or near its eastern boundary, and was the known site of a Mi’kmaq village. Philippe’s wife would have accompanied him here, too.

The two cultures coexisted harmoniously, with the French settling the salt marsh lands, and the Mi’kmaq people living along the coastline in the summers, then in the woods and uplands in cold weather. They hunted and fished together, sharing the bounty of the woods and sea, and intermarried.

Given that the Mi’kmaq moved from place to place with the seasons, we don’t know when or where Philippe’s wife perished.

We presume that she was deceased before 1686 when Philippe was living with his father, also a widower, in Port Royal. I know how much trouble “presume” can get a genealogist into. However, I doubt that he would have left his family otherwise. Perhaps after her death, he decided to try living in the white world again. Based on what we know about Philippe, I’d wager that he was very unhappy there.

By 1687, he was on a trader’s list of European men in Indian villages, and his next child, born to Marie, arrived the following year.

Mi’kmaq Life

During my visit to Nova Scotia in the summer of 2024, I returned home to the sacred places of my Mi’kmaq ancestors.

No story of the Acadians would be complete without the Mi’kmaq people, so every museum includes documentation and references to the Native people and the role they played in Acadian settlement. The Mi’kmaq people lived throughout Nova Scotia for thousands of years.

Two locations were devoted to telling the story of the Mi’kmaq people, by the Mi’kmaq people themselves. Kespukwitk is the entire SW Nova Scotia region in the Mi’kmaq language. Today the Kejimkujik National Park and National Historic Site at Maitland tells the story of the Mi’kmaq people.

The second location is the Millbrook Cultural and Heritage Center, located on tribal land at Truro where they educate us about Mi’kmaq life.

Birth, Life and Beyond

All cultures have unique customs for commemorating life’s milestones, be they birth, coming of age, marriage or, finally, death. Some of the ways in which the Mi’kmaq observed these occasions remained unchanged for centuries. With the introduction of Catholicism, others gradually changed or died out completely.

For the Mi’kmaq, large families were means of forging alliances, and practically speaking, the more kin one had, young or old, the better. Polygamy was once common and parenting began early. Nicholas Denys, observing Mi’kmaq ways in the 1600s, remarked that, “The greatest persons give way to the little ones. The father and mother draw the morsel from their mouths for a child asks for it. They love their children greatly. They are never afraid of having too many, for they are their wealth.”

There was no pampering of expectant mothers. Writing in 1616, Father Pierre Biard noted that women gave birth outdoors and then with newborns warmly wrapped and secure inside a type of wooden backpack (a cradle board), the mothers resumed everyday tasks within hours. If a birth was particularly difficult, a shaman (puoin) was summoned to assist by blowing sweet tobacco smoke around the tree where the expectant mother stood, her hands grasping a branch.

Parents welcomed the new baby by hosting a birthing feast. The guests danced in a circle around the infant, offering up thanks and blessings. Families celebrated a youngster’s first tooth and first steps. Increasingly, after 1600, children were baptized.

A boy was considered a man when he killed his first moose. The last moose-kill feast ever held was at Shubenacadie for Max Basque in 1937. A young girl’s coming of age meant that she was ready to marry and this too was a milestone. Menstruating women retired to be alone so as to “…recite certain formularies of invocation to the Manitou …that they might obtain blessing of fruitfulness.” (Abbé Maillard, 1758)

Courtship meant that a young man and woman lived with the girl’s family for an extended period. Each demonstrated their prowess with respect to carrying out specific day-to-day tasks. The young man proved himself a hunter and fisherman and made tools, weapons, a canoe, a sled, and other items. The young woman demonstrated her butchering and cooking skills, made clothing and containers, wove webbing for snowshoes, and prepared herbal remedies.

If the twosome were compatible and the families willing, there was a wedding feast. The couple painted their faces in hues of red and blue and adorned their hair. The bride wore an elaborately-decorated white robe. There were speeches and much singing, dancing, storytelling, and eating. Festivities lasted several days.

Sadly, accidents and death occurred, although death was merely a transformation or shape-change, the last movements a passing over of protective power from one being to another. Burial customs varied and included primary burials, sky burials and secondary burials. A primary burial took place when a grave could be easily dug in a communal burying ground. The person was buried intact in either a horizontal or a flexed position.

A sky burial involved the placement of an intact body on an elevated outdoor scaffold so it could dry in the sun. This took place during winter or when death occurred at a remote place. A secondary burial meant that, following a sky burial, the bones were placed in the ground, months or years later.

Labor was divided, and everyone participated.

“The boys aid the father on the hunt and help in the support of the family. Girls work aiding the mother; they go for the wood, for water, and to find the slain animal and carry it to the wigwam. There is always some old woman with the girls to conduct them and show them the way, for often these animals are killed at five or six leagues from the wigwam and there are no beaten roads. Sometimes they camp where the animal is. They make broiled steaks and return next day.” [Adapted from Nicolas Denys, Concerning the Ways of the Indians, 1672]

Other sources tell us that the Mi’kmaq people utilized toboggans and snowshoes during the winter months, especially in conjunction with hunting.

Moose was prized, and along with any other forest animal, was a staple. Moose butter known as “cacamo” was a great delicacy made by boiling crushed moose bones in a large wooden vat. The fat was skimmed from the top of the water, congealed, and packed in birch bark boxes to be taken on hunts or given as a treasured gift. It was both high energy and portable for long hunting trips in the winter.

Salmon were speared from canoes by torchlight at night.

Brush weirs were utilized in tidal estuaries. Stakes were driven into the mud and then brush was used to make an interwoven netting, trapping fish and marine life as the water flowed out, back towards the sea.

Hooks were carved from bone and attached to moosehide lines. Larger fish were harvested using bone-tipped lances. Even larger lance-type harpoons were used to hunt seals, walrus, and small whales from seagoing canoes.

I can only imagine harpooning a whale from a canoe. The terror, but also the glory, if one was successful and did not die in the process!

The Mi’kmaq people were highly mobile and semi-nomadic, but returned to the same areas year after year, just as their ancestors had done.

Families camped by estuaries in the spring to take advantage of the spring fish runs. They moved closer to the coast in the summer to harvest cod and shellfish. Hunting in the forest took place in the fall and winter months, and fishing was done through holes in the ice.

Wild resources such as nuts and berries were harvested when ripe, and maple and birch sap were collected and boiled to make syrup or sweet drinks.

Some plants were used as medicine and others were woven into cloth. Lescarbot reported that the cloth made of hemp by the Mi’kmaq people was “finer, whiter and stronger than that of France.” Porcupine quills were used generously for decoration, and plants were used for dye.

As with many Native peoples, the Mi’kmaq were one with nature, considering many locations as sacred. The abundance of nature was understood as a gift from the Great Spirit or Creator. Nature was not a separate thing, but interwoven with them, and they with it. All was one. The Mi’kmaq people were stewards of the land and took only what was needed, wasting nothing. To do otherwise would be disrespecting Nature and the gifts bestowed upon them. Nicolas Denys kept a journal and said that they killed animals only in proportion to their need for them. As a trader, he was interested in skins and mentioned that “they never make an accumulation of skins of moose, beaver, otter, or others, but only as far as they need them for personal use.”

The Native people had no concept of “private property” as everything was shared communally, and the earth could not be “owned.” This vast difference in perspective led to many clashes and disagreements that persist to this day.

Nothing was wasted. Meat was eaten. Bones were used as implements, skins as clothing and wigwam covering, and so forth.

The Native people felt a responsibility to, and a kinship with the forest and sea animals, even those they harvested. They held the animals in great respect – thanking them for allowing themselves to be caught to nourish their bodies. It would be a “sin” of sorts to waste any part of them, or kill them needlessly, which constituted waste. Animals were considered to be persons, with souls.

The concept of massive harvesting of natural resources like trees and animals, only for their furs to be shipped back to European markets, was entirely foreign to the Mi’kmaq people.

Within a generation or so, the Mi’kmaq embraced hunting for trade, beaver was over-hunted for their lucrative pelts, and life was forever changed. Life as they knew it disappeared quickly, and with it, much of their equilibrium with Nature.

The arrival of Europeans in the early 1600s seemed innocent enough at first, but over the next few decades, the onslaught of new settlers with their very different cultural expectations and beliefs would destroy life as the Mi’kmaq people knew it.

If Philippe and his Mi’kmaq wife, whose name is unknown, welcomed their first child around 1679, based on what we know about the Mi’kmaq culture, we can estimate that his mother was maybe 16 at the time, so born about 1663.

Given what else we know about the habits of the Mi’kmaq people, and that they were know to freqent Pobomcoup, indicating that it was the place where they ice fished, it’s reasonable to surmise that area is where Philippe met his first wife. They married around 1678, probably in the Mi’kmaq tradition, given that Philippe lived among the tribe, and not the reverse where she lived among the French.

Furthermore, just a few years later when she died, their children were already an integral part of the communal family unit of their band – so taking them away from their family to be raised elsewhere by their father was simply unthinkable.

Based on Philippe’s appearance in Port Royal with his widowed father in 1686, Philippe may have tried to return to “French life,” but quickly found that he needed to follow his heart, back to nature and the Mi’kmaq people – where he remarried and lived the rest of his life.

Returning Home

During my 2024 trip back to Nova Scotia, I visited the Habitation at Port Royal, the Museum at Fort Anne, Kespukwitk and the Millbrook Cultural and Heritage Center at Truro. Each of these tells a different chapter and explains different aspects of Mi’kmaq life in Nova Scotia.

Lake Kejimkujik, today a National Park, is the spiritual center of Kespukwitk, the ancient home of the Mi’kmaq people for thousands of years, “since the beginning of time.”

Ancient petroglyphs, the traditional written Mi’kmaq language, are heavily protected within Kejimkujik.

Stone, like any other element of nature, is considered to be a living entity. Therefore, these petroglyphs are considered to be living as well, and need to be afforded respect.

Petroglyphs are found in locations across the traditional Mi’kmaq land, many disappearing due to the ravages of time. This petroglyph was part of a cliff face at Red Bridge Pond near Dartmouth, but was unintentionally displaced during road construction. It fell into a lake, then was recovered some years later and placed in a grassy area beside the road. Normally, artifacts like this cannot be moved, but in this case, given the circumstances, it was moved to the Millbrook Cultural and Heritage Center, on tribal land, for its own protection.

Upon arrival in Kejimkujik, we began in the museum where we saw a beautiful birchbark canoe.

An incredible amount of skill is required to achieve balance and symmetry when crafting these watercraft so they track straight and don’t roll over. The seams must be sealed to make them waterproof.

An inside view of the hand-hewn ribs of the canoe, with its brace. Canoes are built from the outside in, and the wood must be curved and bent without breaking. Today, locating and harvesting perfectly flawless birch trees, free of knots, is increasingly difficult due to disease, over-harvesting, and habitat destruction.

Chief Charlie Labrador was a traditional canoe builder, Elder and Spiritual Healer who lived at Kejimkujik.

You can read his interview about his younger life, his parents and grandparents, along with the traditional Mi’kmaq ways, here.

Reproductions of Native tools discovered by archaeologists.

Beautiful traditional woven basketry.

After leaving the museum, I spent some time walking along the lake’s shore, communing with the spirits of my ancestors. I can always feel them.

Anytime you see two red wooden chairs in Parks Canada, there’s something historical of interest, and those chairs are an invitation to sit and enjoy the scenery.

I was too excited to be there to sit very long.

After walking a little further, we noticed a demonstration area.

Todd Labrador, son of Chief Charlie Labrador, was giving demonstrations on traditional canoe-building – a nearly-lost art.

Todd is an incredible artist.

Todd, working in his workshop beside the photo of his grandfather, Charlie Labrador, born in 1874.

Tools lay on a table in front of another canoe underway.

I would have LOVED to bring that birchbark box home.

I wonder what Todd is going to do with these huge moose antlers. They can have a spread of up to six feed and weigh 80 pounds or more.

From the canoe workshop, I noticed a path along the lake that beckoned to me.

I could not resist hiking the same path that my ancestors did. We walked past a few other people doing the same thing.

The path took us along the lakeshore.

Eventually, opening into a clearing with a path down to a sandy beach.

Here, one can look, unconstrained, across time. Into the past, and perhaps into the future

I wasn’t quite ready to leave, but eventually, the mosquitoes convinced me otherwise.

Making our way back to the car, we noticed a lovely little picnic area, purchased a light lunch, and enjoyed ourselves immensely.

The road that traverses the park has several places to stop, though some are easy to miss.

“What’s that? Over there! Let’s stop!”

Poor Cousin Mark had at least one back-seat driver. Sorry Mark. I was so excited, and what we discovered next was the best part.

Secluded behind some trees, down a barely noticeable trail was what looked to be an abandoned Mi’kmaq camp.

Fortunately, there was a ranger who I think was very glad to have someone to explain things to. We were equally as grateful.

I spotted the wigwam and simply could not stop myself. It was calling to me.

I absolutely HAD to crawl in there, just like my ancestors did. Well, not just like they did because they were MUCH more agile.

I remembered my manners and asked if it would be alright, and yes, it was fine.

My cousins were kind and did not take a picture of me actually sort of crab-crawling inside, as I’m absolutely positive that I was no place near as graceful as my ancestors were.

In fact, I’m sure they were all collectively laughing from someplace over the lake.

I’m determined, though, and I made it.

I was simply gleeful. So, so, happy.

My cousins went back to discussing whatever they were discussing with the ranger, which gave me a chance to marvel at the experience.

This is the view that my Mi’kmaq ancestors woke up to every morning. Their front door.

People milling around outside – the village coming to life. Maybe children playing already.

I began to look around. The sides of the wigwam are waterproof.

Looking up and out through the center smoke hole.

Close up of the very top, where all of the poles join together in a cone. This is what every person woke up seeing, warm weather or cold.

During inclement weather, the hole was covered by a birchbark collar, which could also be adjusted for ventilation and heat regulation through side vents. You can read more, here.

The smoke hole is more than just for ventilation. It symbolizes the pathway of the soul, where the soul leaves the body and exits, tethering the earth and sky with the spirit realm.

Mom couldn’t come with me in person on this journey, given that she lives in the spirit world, so I wore her ring that descended from this side of her family. Here’s “Mom” in the wigwam on her ancestral land. Philippe’s wife was here, and so were her ancestors for time immemorial.

We’re home Mom.

The poles, with the hoops lashed to the poles along with the protective birchbark.

Reassembling the wigwam was the woman’s job. I can’t imagine accomplishing this in a day.

Hmmm, what’s that red thing, and what’s the ranger saying?

I can’t hear from here.

Should I embarrass myself and make an undignified exit?

Sooner or later, I have to.

As it turns out, this is a traditional Mi’kmaq game of chance called Waltes or Woltes. You can watch a champion player in a YouTube video, here.

That stunning wooden bowl is carved from the burl of a tree. The six beautiful moose or deer bone dice are carved on one side and rounded on the other. They are kept in that leather pouch when not in use.

The sticks are counting sticks. The goal is to win all of your opponents sticks by landing matching combinations of dice as the bowl is bounced against the blanket by players who take turns.

Having been played for thousands of years, Waltes is both cultural and has a spiritual aspect as well. It’s not only fun, but teaches counting, patience, and how to handle defeat. In earlier times, the bowl was often used by medicine men and women for divination and healing.

Of course, because it’s a game of chance, or more specifically, probability, wagers are sometimes involved too.

This is not a reproduction, but the real deal. No place did I find anything like this to purchase. I would have been happy with just one original piece.

Looking around the camp, I asked about this strange-looking skin. Turns out, it’s an eel’s skin lying on a pelt.

This is particularly relevant for Philippe and the Mi’kmaq people, given that they moved from the area near Tusket where they fished for eels during warm weather, to this interior lake in the fall and winter.

The benches were covered with furs and pelts, perhaps as they would have been displayed when trading.

The ranger explained how the skins and pelts were prepared, with the tools lying on the bench with the pelts.

Furs and pelts curing and drying.

Bearskin at the right, and I think the lighter pelt at left is caribou.

A log hollowed out for cooking.

Hunting and food preparation were a year-round affair.

When the tribe was encamped along the coastline, children collected eggs from the nests of seabirds, some of which were eaten as well. In season, berries, nuts, tree sap, and other plants supplemented their fare.

Fats and oils from moose and harbour seals were important dietary staples. Absolutely every part of the animal was utilized. Whatever couldn’t be eaten was used for clothing, utensils, or jewelry.

Moose bladders stored seal oil. Moose butter, a cherished treat, was rendered from boiled bones and marrow. Intestines were used for rope, or to stuff with a combination of meat, often organ meat, fat, and berries before smoking to preserve it for the lean winter months.

Salmon ran in the spring and fall. Sturgeon was caught at night by groups of men in canoes that would harpoon one fish and haul it to shore.

Moose were hunted mostly in the winter when snow slowed the animal, making it easier prey. Not only are moose huge animals, reaching from 5 to 7 feet at the shoulder, they also weigh from 600 to 1600 pounds, depending on their sex and age.

With bows, arrows, and lances, multiple men were required to harvest a moose, often having to track it for a day or more after it was initially wounded.

Meat was boiled, roasted, smoked or dried, depending on the season and if it was going to be eaten immediately or preserved for future use.

The Mi’kmaq people were not farmers. They were opportunistic hunters, but also tended to hunt certain things based on the moon under which it fell.

  • January was for seal hunting.
  • February and March were for beaver, otter, moose, bear, and caribou hunting.
  • April ushered in smelt and gaspereau season, along with salmon and sturgeon. Children began gathering eggs.
  • Fishing began in May and continued all summer.
  • Roots and edible plants began to be gathered in June.
  • July added berries to the diet, along with hunting partridge and pigeons.
  • August was for rabbit hunting.
  • They fished for eels in September.
  • Snow began to fall in October, and hunting for ducks, moose, and beaver began and continued through November.
  • December saw fishing for tomcod and the gathering of turtles.

Campfires, the center and heart of the community served many purposes and was tended primarily by the women. Fire, along with the other elements, is considered to be a living relative that transforms, cleanses and heals, and served many purposes. It was around the campfire that Elders passed on the sacred stories and laws.

Fire was also used for communal cooking. Men were responsible for procuring the meat. They would field-dress the animal to make it lighter or easier to transport, if necessary, but women were responsible for cleaning and preparing what the men brought home. Women also gathered berries and plants.

Aside from food, the women prepared hides for use or trade, including cleaning, brain-tanning, chewing them for softness, and sewing them into their final form.

Fire and heat are used for cooking, preparing hides and skins, rendering dyes, and, of course, for teaching, warmth and socializing.

Who doesn’t love to gather round a campfire?

I knew that our time had come to depart, but I didn’t want to leave.

One more walk to the lake to say “so long.” Not goodbye, because I’ll join them one day on that side of the spirit world.

Lifted by the wings of the sacred eagle.

Of all the locations and exhibits in Nova Scotia, our day at Kejimkujik was by far the most authentic, filled with a bone-deep spiritual connection and meaning. Knowing that my ancestors had unquestionably been here, stood here, slept here, and entered the spirit realm here made this a deeply personal experience.

They spent their winters on this lakeshore, and canoed on these waters. They loved, made love, and birthed babies here.

My ancestors. My family. For thousands of years.

I may not know her name, but I felt her presence. I can’t help but wonder what cut her time on earth so short. I hope she didn’t suffer.

Some 340 years later, I shared her world for a little bit, and I could almost, almost see through her eyes.

_____________________________________________________________

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Untangling the Life of Madeleine Hélie (c1633-1677/1678) – 52 Ancestors #479

Madeleine, Madelaine, and sometimes called Magdelaine or Magdeleine Hélie, the wife of Philippe Mius d’Entremont, was born about 1633 in France, probably in Normandy. For consistency, I’ll refer to her as Madeleine. To confuse things further, she also had a daughter by the same name AND a daughter named Marguerite. Of course she did! To throw fuel on that fire, census takers were anything but accurate, omitting the exact information we need today.

Madeleine arrived in Acadia in 1651 with her husband and their first child, Marie Marguerite Mius, who was born about 1650, according to several later census records.

Based on the age of her daughter, Madeleine Hélie married Philippe Mius no later than 1649 or maybe in the first few months of 1650.

No record of their marriage, or either of their births, has been found in France, but two contemporaneous records state that they were from Normandy. One official record sent by Sieur Mathieu de Goutin, the King’s Secretary, in 1707 stated that Philippe Mius, from Normandy, had died in 1700. Another 1762 record created by their descendants who had been exiled and wound up in Cherbourg, Normandy, in 1760, stated the same, but unfortunately, neither record says where in Normandy.

I considered the possibility that they married earlier and lost a child or children before Marie Marguerite’s birth, but a 1678 census record indicating that Madeleine Hélie’s last child was born in 1677 tends to contraindicate that possibility. By 1677, she had been bearing children for 27 years. Assuming she was 44 or 45 in 1677, that suggests her birth around 1632 or 1633.

Given Philippe’s age in 1650, which, based on various documents, would have been between 41 and 50, so born between 1600 and 1609, it’s also possible, and I’d say probable, that Madeleine Hélie was not Philippe Mius’s first wife.

You can read more about Philippe Mius in the following articles:

Arriving in Acadia

Philippe Mius was brought to Acadia as the second-in-command to Acadian Governor Charles St. Etienne de LaTour, who was a Huguenot.

Philippe, Madeleine and their baby probably left from La Rochelle, which was the departure port for ships bound for Acadia.

As they sailed out of this harbour, shown here in a 1762 painting, Madeleine, about 18 with a small baby, probably shed a few tears. She knew she would never return and would never see her family again.

Or, perhaps she was too young to fully grasp the magnitude of what she was leaving behind and viewed it as a grand adventure.

The trip from La Rochelle to Acadia would have lasted approximately 6 weeks, give or take a few days or weeks, based on the weather the ship encountered.

Arrival in Acadia

We don’t know exactly where they first landed, but given that they had to pass right by La Heve, the original seat of Acadia, where a fort and a few families remained, it’s likely that they stopped there for a few days. At least for fresh water and food. Imagine how good fresh-baked bread or a hot, buttered biscuit would have tasted after all those weeks at sea.

This was probably where Madeleine first set foot in Acadia. Looking down the beach from where the fort stood, the habitations, or village, where Acadian families lived before the seat of Acadia was moved to Port Royal between 1636 and 1640, was located on the point in the distance.

They would have checked on the fort, perhaps delivered supplies, taken on clean water and food, and given the passengers the opportunity to stretch their legs for a few days before boarding again to continue sailing along the Nova Scotia coastline.

Fort LaTour

Charles St. Etienne de LaTour established Fort LaTour on Cape Sable, which was “on the way” to Port Royal, so they presumably would have stopped here too, especially if LaTour was on board. Nothing remains today, except this marker.

In 1651, the fort was the domain of Charles LaTour, but it’s unclear whether he actually lived here at the time, or simply maintained a trading post where he traded with both the Mi’kmaq and English traders out of New England. Regardless, this outpost was quite remote, and the seat of Acadia was in Port Royal where they were headed next.

The ship would have rounded the land on Cape Sable that Philippe and Madeleine would one day own. Pobomcoup was labeled only as “Micmacs, Indene du Cap de Sable,” although the word “Indene” is very difficult to make out. No Europeans had yet settled there.

As they rounded the point in 1651, Philippe and Madeleine would have had no idea that this inlet, today’s Pubnico Harbour, the peninsula, and surrounding land would define much of their lives.

Madeleine’s son, Philippe, would one day marry into the Indian people, not once, but twice, although he would not be born for another nine years.

Did they stop to trade in the sheltered bay on the way before continuing on to Port Royal, the seat of Acadian government?

Had Philippe and Charles been discussing Philippe’s eventual compensation package, and did it include land of his choosing?

Did Charles suggest that Pubnico would be a good choice? Could they have stopped not only to trade, but to meet the local Native people, who were clearly very friendly, with the idea that this would be an excellent trading post?

We don’t know where Madeleine and Philippe lived for their first couple of years in Acadia, although we do know that LaTour was gone on business and trading, and Philippe Mius governed in his absence. That was exactly why Philippe was brought to Acadia.

My wager would be that Philippe needed to be in Port Royal during LaTour’s absence, and that Madeleine had their second child there about 1652.

That child did not survive to 1671, so would have been buried in the graveyard at the fort in Port Royal, overlooking the Riviere Dauphin, if it perished as a baby.

Land Barons, Literally

Philippe apparently served well in LaTour’s absence, because on July 17, 1653, Charles St. Etienne de LaTour awarded a large land grant referred to as the “Baronnie de Pombcoup”, which is today’s Pubnico Harbour and surrounding land, to Philippe Mius and Madelaine Hélie, jointly.

They probably didn’t settle there right away, because it would have taken some time to build a proper mansion house – or a house of any kind. Their second child to survive to adulthood, Jacques, could have been born in Port Royal or Pobomcoup sometime around 1654.

A 1762 document found in the French archives details the land history and says, in part:

Concessions granted at Port Royal on July 17, 1653, by the high and powerful lord Messire Charles de Saint-Étienne, Seigneur de La Tour, Knight of the Order of the King, Governor and Lieutenant General, to nobleman Philippe Mius, esquire, Sieur d’Entremont, and to Demoiselle Madelaine Hélie, his wife…

The grant itself is missing, but the Nova Scotia Archives provides excerpts from the now-missing grant:

There was present and personally certified the high and powerful seigneur Charles de La Tour, Lieutenant General in all of Acadia. He voluntarily acknowledged the receipt and avowed that he had, by these presents, given and relinquished in perpetuity the title of baron and noble fief having the administration of justice, high, mean and low as paramount fief to the nobleman Philippe Mius, Esquire, sieur d’Entremont and Madame Magdeleine Hélie, his wife, who were present and accepted it for themselves and their heirs. In consideration of the particular merit of said Sieur d’Entremont and of the good and faithful services which he has personally rendered to us, we have given and granted and do give and grant by these presents to the said sieur d’Entremont the extent of one league in width and four in depth in the place called Pobomcoup to be enjoyed by the said grantees and successors with the title of baron, in consideration of an on condition of homage and a quichipoly (an Indian word meaning “a small bag” or “purse” made out of an animal skin) of beaver with two bouquets on the days and feasts of St. John Baptist for each year, and on condition that he occupies and establishes the said places. The said seigneur LaTour has today granted and placed in possession of the said seigneur d’Entremont the said land, fief and barony of Pobomcoup, promising and binding himself accordingly. — These renunciations were made and passed at the fort of Port Royal on July 17, 1653.

As a result of this substantial land grant, Philippe’s status was elevated to Baron, a Noble title, just above the gentry class who were high-status landowners – “gentle folk” who did not perform manual labor. This meant that Madeleine shared that status. Her official title would have been either Madame, La Baronne, or Madame la Baronne, which technically means “My Lady.”

However, in Pobomcoup, for a very long time, there was no one other than her family, the Mi’kmaq, and traders to address her as anything. Given what we know about early life in Pobomcoup, I’d wager they lived primarily from the bounty of the sea and established a trading center for Native people and English traders out of Boston.

Capture!

You might think that high drama in Port Royal had nothing to do with Madeleine in Pobomcoup, but it assuredly did. Some events occurred before Madeleine arrived, but the balance formed the chapters of Madeleine Hélie’s life in Acadia.

It’s also worth remembering that Madeleine wasn’t living in Port Royal during most of this time, so she would have anxiously awaited word of what was happening there, which was anything but dull. I wonder whether a woman there would have written her letters, assuming any of the women could write, or if she had to depend on sailors for news.

Philippe’s position as lieutenant governor didn’t last long, because the following year, on July 31, 1654, the English attacked and took Acadia, including Port Royal, Pubnico, and Cape Sable.

On their way to seize Port Royal, the English captured Fort Pentagouët in present-day Castine, Maine, and Fort St. Jean, on the Saint John River, across the Bay from Port Royal.

While the “taking” of Pobomcoup would have been largely symbolic, because there was only one European home there to “take,” all of Acadia fell under English rule. At one point, the English had supported LaTour in Acadia, in part, because they were both Protestant.

It’s unclear whether Philippe and Madeleine were Catholic or Protestant, but they were close to the LaTour family, and eventually, the two families would intermarry.

I strongly suspect that when the English arrived that July, Philippe Mius and Madeleine Hélie were already in Pobomcoup, and if not, they assuredly would have high-tailed it right home, where it was much safer than in Port Royal. There is no report of the English in either Pobomcoup, Fort LaTour, or La Heve.

Part of the reason I don’t think they were in Port Royal at that time is because they weren’t captured.

Charles LaTour was captured in Port Royal and taken to England as a high-profile hostage, but was treated more like royalty. He wasn’t thrown in prison but was placed under house arrest while the English tried to figure out what to do with him, and Acadia. In 1656, he talked his way out of his predicament and was returned to Acadia as the English-appointed Governor, having sworn allegiance to the English crown and agreed to sell his assets to Thomas Temple to pay his debts.

LaTour returned to Acadia in 1656, but soon realized he really wanted no part of governing the now-English colony of angry Acadians. He “retired” and returned to Fort LaTour at Cape Sable.

A lot is uncertain about this time in Acadia, but prior to the 1654 English attack, LaTour had already had his Governorship challenged by Emmanuel Le Borgne, a Catholic, who had a claim to LaTour’s holdings based on his marriage to Charles d’Aulnay’s widow in 1653.

The Backstory

Charles d’Aulnay governed Acadia until his death in 1650 and was LaTour’s vehemently despised arch-rival. They waged war for a decade, both claiming the governorship of Acadia. In truth, their valid claims overlapped, thanks to the French government.

In 1645, d’Aulnay’s men from Port Royal captured LaTour’s fort across the bay at Saint Johns while LaTour was in Boston seeking additional English support.

LaTour’s wife, Françoise-Marie Jacquelin, only 23, commanded the defensive battle to defend the fort, but eventually lost and surrendered. D’Aulnay then executed all of LaTour’s men after agreeing not to harm them in the surrender agreement. D’Aulnay held Françoise-Marie captive, and three weeks later, she suspiciously died in his custody.

The brutality of this event widely divided the Acadians’ loyalty.

D’Aulnay drowned in 1650, leaving his wife, Jeanne Motin to manage the colony he commanded, their eight children, and d’Aulnay’s massive debt.

If you’re thinking to yourself, “What a mess!”, you’d be exactly right.

Philippe and Madeleine Arrive

Philippe Mius and Madeleine Hélie arrived in Port Royal in 1651, just in time for the next chapters. Did they know any of this before accepting this assignment? We’ll never know.

In 1653, Charles LaTour returned to Acadia from his self-imposed exile in Quebec following his wife’s untimely death at d’Aulnay’s hands, and d’Aulnay’s widow married him in Port Royal. There could not have been a less-likely couple.

They hoped their marriage would heal the bitter feud between families, along with the resulting decade-old rift among Acadians. The added benefit (and maybe the overarching reason) was that they had competing legal claims. Regardless, the marriage did serve to heal the colony, at least somewhat, smoothing the way forward, although it wouldn’t last long.

After the English took Acadia in 1654, they ruled it as a colony, with Emmanuel Le Borgne being appointed as absentee Governor by the French in 1657. He “governed” from France and retained the title until 1667, when Acadia was officially returned to France by treaty.

However, it took three years of conflict on the ground in Acadia for the physical turnover to actually occur, with the English King finally commanding Thomas Temple to surrender the territory. However, instead of returning the governorship to Le Borgne, the French assigned a new governor.

Ironically, Le Borgne’s son, Alexandre Le Borgne de Belle-Isle had remained in Acadia the entire time and about 1675, married Marie Saint-Etienne de LaTour, Jean Motin’s daughter with LaTour.

Alexander reportedly had a significant drinking problem and was heavily addicted to wine. He would regularly become quite intoxicated and create havoc by granting the same tract of land to multiple settlers.

By this time, LaTour had died, in 1666, at Cape Sable – and there’s still no mention of Philippe Mius and Madeleine Hélie in any records – so we presume they are quietly going about their lives in Pobomcoup. Out of both harm’s way and the limelight. Sometimes, the best plan of action is to keep your head down.

In 1670, Acadia was actually returned to French control.

One of the first official French acts, aside from ordering a census, was to appoint Philippe Mius as the King’s Attorney.

Madeleine had been living in Acadia for almost two decades now, mostly in Pobomcoup. I wonder if she ever questioned her decision to leave France. Life had certainly not turned out how she would have expected.

The First Census

The 1671 and later censuses provide us with information about the ages of Madeleine’s children.

In 1671, the family was living in Pobomcoup and the ages of family members are listed as follows:

  • Philippe Mieux, squire, Sieur de Landremont – 62, so born about 1609
  • Madeleine Hélie, no age listed
  • Daughter Marguerite Marie is noted as married to Pierre Melanson, no age listed
  • Son (Jacques, listed by age but not by name) – 17, so born about 1654
  • Abraham – 13, so born about 1658
  • Philippe – 11, so born about 1660
  • Madeleine – 2, so born about 1669

We don’t know if Father Laurent Molins, the Franciscan Priest who signed the census and listed Philippe and Madeleine in Pobomcoup actually visited, but it’s unlikely since her age was missing, and their oldest son’s name was missing. I can just hear the conversation between Father Molins, who had probably never met any of the family, and someone else in Port Royal. “What was that oldest boy’s name, anyway? I can’t remember.” “I don’t know, but I think he’s about 17. He’s just younger than Marguerite.”

Census takers, priests or not, haven’t changed a lot. Father Molins could have asked Philippe and Madeleine’s daughter, Marguerite, who lived in Port Royal with her husband, Pierre Melanson or Melancon, but it seems they were, um, one would say, “uncooperative.”

Father Molins recorded that, “Pierre Melanson, tailor, would not give his age nor the number of animals, but his wife’s answers concerning their possessions were just as crazy.” This alone should tell us that in 1671, they were not a Catholic family.

One of the reasons I’ve wondered if Philippe Mius and Madeleine Hélie were Huguenots is because LaTour was, and one would think that he would select someone as his second-in-command whom he trusted completely. At that time, Catholics and Protestants were literally at war in France.

The second reason I wondered is because Madeleine’s oldest child, Marguerite, married Pierre Melanson, who was also a Protestant.

Pierre Melanson’s father, also named Pierre, was French, but Pierre (the younger) was baptized in London in 1632, and was well-educated and fluent in both French and English. The Melanson family arrived with the English, via Boston, in the company of Sir Thomas Temple in 1657. They supposedly converted to Catholicism in Acadia, based partly on the fact that their son, Pierre, married Acadian Marguerite Mius, who was presumed to be Catholic. However, based on that 1671 census reply, I’m not convinced.

Madeleine’s daughter Marguerite is shown in the 1686 census as 36 years old, which would have placed her birth about 1650, so she would have been about 21 in 1671 when the French census-taker, who just happened to be the local priest, arrived asking “nosey” questions. It appears that the Melanson family might not have been terribly happy about the French regaining control of Acadia.

The 1678 Census

In the 1671 census, Madeleine Hélie is accounted for, but her age is not given.

The 1678 census throws us a curveball. The family is enumerated in Port Royal instead of in Pobomcoup, which means that Philippe’s position as the King’s Attorney has required his presence in Port Royal. I don’t know how he could possibly have fulfilled his duties living remotely in Pobomcoup, so they probably moved to Port Royal not long after the 1671 census, which was signed and returned on November 8th that year.

Philippe and Madeleine would have lived on the main street of town, among the other administrators and officials of the colony.

In 1678, Philippe owned 12 cattle and had 9 arpents of land under cultivation.

Overlooking what’s left of the Queen’s Wharf today, before the fort expansion of 1705, where I am standing to take this photo, would have been 5 or 6 houses east of the Governor’s house. In other words, in the center of town, between Michael Boudrot and BelleIsle.

This is the area where they lived. In fact, I might be standing “in their house,” and if no, assuredly within sight. The main street of town was only a block long.

The 1678 census only listed children’s ages, not their names, but the Myus family was a rather strange mix of both named and unnamed children. The census showed the following, in order:

  • Philippe Myus
  • One girl age 10 (Madeleine, but not listed by name)
  • Jacques Myus, Abraham Myus and Anne (no ages listed and no surname for Anne who is presumed to be Madeleine (the daughter) born in 1669)
  • Marguerite (no age or surname – daughter Marguerite would be the wife of Pierre Melanson who had married about 1665)
  • 1 girl (age) 1 (which means she was born in 1677)

The 1678 census was transcribed by Tim Hebert, here, and Lucy LeBlanc Consentino, here. On their documents, Father Clarence d’Entremont had reconciled the children with their names and birth years based on other censuses and documents.

Who was this baby girl born in 1677? We have no idea.

But there’s something else.

Madeleine Hélie is Missing

Madeleine Hélie is missing.

This strongly suggests that the baby girl, who is age 1, was Madeleine’s last child, and Madeleine died between 1677, when the little girl was born, and 1678, when the census was taken.

Of course, I wonder if Madeleine died in, or as a result of, childbirth.

I can only imagine how Madeleine felt, knowing that she was dying, and leaving a baby behind.

Madeleine’s daughter born in 1677 would have been 9 in 1686 if she were living, but she is not listed, so she too had perished by then.

Calculating Madeleine’s Birth Year

We don’t know exactly when Madeleine Hélie died, but her last child (that we know of) was born about 1677 and Madeleine is gone by late 1678. If Madeleine was 44 at the time her last child was born, she would have been born about 1633 and married when she was about 16.

Between fourteen and seventeen would be a normal age for a French bride of that era.

Therefore, Madeleine was probably between 43 and 45 when she died between 1677 and 1678.

Babies Born, Babies Lost

There are a lot of blank spaces between Madeleine’s children where we know babies would have been born. Assuming a child was born every 24 months, and not closer, Madeleine buried more children than she raised. If a child died at or near birth, the next child generally followed a year later, if that long. So, if anything, this list is incomplete.

I’ve shown Madeleine’s children’s births on a timeline adjusted to accommodate her children who were born and died prior to the first census in 1671:

  1. Marguerite Marie or Marie Marguerite, born about 1650, probably in France
  2. Unknown child born about 1652, probably in Port Royal, died before 1671, probably in Pobomcoup
  3. Jacques – 17 in 1671, but not named in the census, born about 1654, probably in Port Royal. The 1686 census in Pobomcoup shows his birth year as 1659, but I doubt that was correct because he married about 1678 and, as the eldest son, inherited his father’s Barony. He is also shown visually as the firstborn son on the pedigree chart provided by Mius/d’Entremont/LaTour descendants in France in 1762.
  4. Unknown child born about 1656, died before 1671, probably in Pobomcoup
  5. Abraham – 13 in 1671, so born about 1658
  6. Philippe – 11 in 1671, so born about 1660
  7. Unknown child born about 1662, died before 1671 in Pobomcoup
  8. Unknown child born about 1664, died before 1671 in Pobomcoup
  9. Unknown child born about 1666, died before 1671 in Pobomcoup
  10. Unknown child born about 1668, died before 1671 in Pobomcoup
  11. Madeleine – 2 in 1671, so born about 1669, probably in Pobomcoup. Also listed as Magdelaine (in 1686, age 16), and died before 1693, probably in Port Royal.
  12. Unknown child born about 1671, died before 1678 in Port Royal
  13. Unknown child born about 1673, died before 1678 in Port Royal
  14. Unknown child born about 1675, died before 1678 in Port Royal
  15. Unnamed daughter born about 1677, age 1 in 1678, no name given, and died before 1686, probably in Port Royal

1686

In 1686, Philippe, listed as the “Royal Prosecutor,” is still living among the Acadian elite in Port Royal, listed between Michel Boudrot, the Lt. General of Port Royal, and Claude Petitpas, the Clerk of Court.

We know that Madeleine had already passed by 1678, and only two children are listed with Philippe Mius Sr.

  • Philippe Mius (the son), 24, who is himself a widower
  • Magdelaine, who was 2 in 1671 and is 16 in 1686.

This 1686 map shows the Governor’s House, #7, and Le Bourg’s House, #8, so Philippe Mius would have lived in one of the homes near his colleagues of similar social stature.

Magdelaine, the daughter born in 1669 is listed in this census at 16 years old. She would be expected to marry about this time, but she is never found in any records again, so she apparently died between the 1686 and 1693 censuses.

Madeleine Hélie’s children are being picked off one by one.

By 1686, Philippe Mius d’Entremont Sr. owned 40 arpents of land in Port Royal, which is twice as much as the next two most wealthy landowners, his neighbor Michel Boudrot and Jacob Bourgeois, each with 20 arpents.

Jacob Bourgeois, whose 20 arpent section of land was just at the end of the street on Hogg Island, would sell some of his land to Etienne Pellerin a few years later.

It’s really quite remarkable to realize that we are looking at a drawing of the home where Philippe and Madeleine lived 350 years ago. It has to be one of these larger homes – and there are only 17 shown in total, with three identified.

Given the amount of land that Philippe is credited with, he may have lived in one of the homes with the most garden space, or perhaps that “extra” lot was his, too. Or, maybe the field behind the fence on the right.

Given the sheer size of his holding, Philippe almost had to have been awarded land up the road leading away from town, or across the river.

In 1708, the Labatt map shows the Pleinmarais land, his son Abraham Mius’s dit name, above, at right. It’s nearly double the size of Port Royal, at left, which makes sense when you compare it to the 20 arpents of land on Hogg Island at the end of Port Royal extending down into the river.

It’s probably unlikely that Philippe lived in anything less than a “mansion house” when he moved to Port Royal as a Nobleman and as the King’s Attorney, sometime after the 1671 census.

Furthermore, it would have been very unlikely that he moved in Port Royal after arriving and becoming established. There wasn’t much land available there, on the waterfront where the administrators lived, so few houses to choose from. Therefore, if he had 9 arpents of land in 1678, and 40 in 1686, he had to have been awarded land elsewhere in addition to the 9 he had under cultivation in 1678.

It’s possible that the only land shown adjacent to the homes of the colony’s Administrators were their gardens, and the rest of their land was tended by others elsewhere.

No matter how much wealth and worldly goods Philippe and Madeleine Hélie accumulated, nothing could save Madeleine or her children from early graves.

The graveyard where her children rested was only a few steps away. The good news, if there was any, was that Madeleine could visit them often. The bad news was the same, and she would join them much too soon in unmarked graves.

Did Philippe and Madeleine Return to Pobomcoup?

Did Philippe and Madeleine ever move back to Pobomcoup? I don’t think so.

We know that Philippe was the King’s Attorney until about 1688. Given that he’s still living in Port Royal in 1686, and has, by 1686 standards, a massive amount of land, it’s unlikely that he ever returned to Pobomcoup.

By 1686, Philippe, then in his 80s, had conferred the Barony upon his son, Jacques, who was one of only five families living at Cap Sable, which is the name under which Pobomcoup was enumerated in 1686.

Philippe probably conveyed the Barony because one typically must live upon a Barony to retain it. In the rough archives translation of the now-lost 1653 deed, we find “on condition that he occupies and establishes the said places,” although the documents found in the French archives specifically state that continuous inhabitation was not a condition of land retention. Perhaps this was a bone of contention.

Regardless, both Jacques and his brother, Abraham, married daughters of Charles LaTour, and they would both have been quite comfortable with their families at Cape Sable. Trade there was probably very lucrative as well, with no competition.

Madeleine’s Known Children

Marguerite Marie Mius, Madeleine’s oldest daughter, married about 1665, when she was about 15, to Pierre Melanson, a Huguenot who lived in Port Royal. Even though the English were holding Port Royal at that time, the Mius family clearly visited Port Royal, or Charles Melanson visited Pobomcoup, because otherwise Marguerite would not have had the opportunity to meet Charles’s son, Pierre.

Marguerite and Pierre settled across the river from Port Royal, present-day Annapolis Royal, in the Melanson Village, near Pierre’s parents. Two years later, in 1667, they left for Boston, but Pierre and his brother remained in Acadia.

This map shows the Melanson Settlement with a red star on the 1686 map, across the river from Port Royal (red arrow).

In 1682, Pierre Melanson led one of the pioneering expeditions to Les Mines, where he and Marguerite settled sometime before 1686 and lived the rest of their lives.

After Pierre and Marguerite had relocated to Les Mines, the Melanson settlement itself continued to grow, fueled by Pierre’s brother, Charles. All three of the Melanson boys maintained close ties with Boston throughout their lives. After Pierre’s parents and brother, John moved to Boston in 1667, when Acadia was returned to France, both Pierre and his brother, Charles, remained in Acadia on their father’s land.

The Melanson family was an interesting bunch. Charles, the son, while living in Acadia, requested and received a militia captain commission in Massachusetts. He was also a pirate.

Perhaps the Melanson allegiance to England and connection with Boston lends more perspective to Pierre and Marguerite’s reaction to the 1671 census taker, especially given that Acadia had just been returned to the French.

There’s more too.

While Pierre Melanson and Marguerite Mius left for Les Mines and settled in Grand Pre, Pierre apparently went back and forth. They may not have sold their land in Port Royal.

In 1690, when the English sailed into the River on their way to attack Port Royal, they stopped at Pierre Melanson’s to check on the condition of the fort and of Port Royal. Pierre’s was the first homestead encountered after entering the mouth of the river.

This 1708 map shows the location of the Melanson settlement land, homes and fields. They were the most distant settlement, towards the sea, across the river from Port Royal.

I don’t think there’s any question that the Melanson family was loyal to the British, and retained their Protestant faith as well. At some point, they may have hidden their leanings, but that hadn’t happened by 1690.

This situation must have been awkward for Philippe Mius and by extension, Madeleine. I wonder how she navigated those waters, or perhaps she was Protestant herself. There’s so much we don’t know.

The Melanson settlement constituted a small village as it expanded over the years.

This drawing shows typical Acadian life in the Melanson Village, based on archaeological excavations there and elsewhere. The layout is strikingly similar to the 1686 map of Port Royal, with enclosed gardens.

The apple orchards were planted behind the homes and gardens, and the salt marsh fields were between the homes, protective dykes, and the river.

Excavations have unearthed several structures and the remnants of village life.

The bustling village of yesteryear, where Madeleine would have visited Marguerite and her family, lies abandoned today, having returned to nature – with no hint of the turmoil that was once found here.

Marguerite had five children that lived before her mother died between 1677 and 1678, and probably two or three who died, based on birth spacing. Tiny coffins would have been constructed for the children who perished, the pounding of the hammer ringing in the ears of Marguerite and Madeleine with each blow. Madeleine would assuredly have been with her daughter at this most devastating of times.

Mother and daughter would have washed their tiny bodies one last time, wrapped them lovingly, and placed them in their caskets for their final sleep.

What happened next is debatable.

If Catholic, they would then have been carried to the canoes or small boats and rowed across the river to the church.

Services were held in the church where a funeral Mass was celebrated before they were buried in the graveyard beside the church, either the same day or the next.

If they were not buried as Catholics, they would either have been buried in the same cemetery, without benefit of a mass, of course, or buried in a cemetery near where they lived.

We know that the Stoney Beach Cemetery, very close to the Melanson Settlement is the site of burials in the late 1700s, and it may well have been used before that by the residents on the far side of the river, especially Protestants.

Eventually, the family did convert, because they are found in the Grand Pre Catholic Church records, but we don’t know who converted, when, where, or why. They may have simply acquiesced to the traditions of their neighbors.

Marguerite’s five children who lived are probably the only grandchildren Madeleine Hélie was able to welcome and enjoy, even if only for a short time. We know that Madeleine died sometime between her last child’s birth in 1677 and the 1678 census, and that at least five grandchildren were born before 1678: in 1666, 1668, 1670, 1673, and 1676.

For several of those years, Madeleine and Marguerite were having children at the same time, likely helping each other through the process. It looks like two of Marguerite’s children died during that time, and five of Madeleine’s. Mother and daughter would have drawn strength from each other in their darkest hours.

Even though we know that they died before the next census where they should have been found, they may not have been stillborn.

Catholic babies were baptized as soon as possible after birth, and in emergencies, sometimes even in the birth canal by the midwife. Sometimes provisional baptisms occurred if a priest wasn’t readily available, the baby was in distress, or inclement weather prevented the trip to church.

Baptisms were events to be celebrated.

The family, including the mother if she was able, made their way to the church with the baby later that day or the following day, depending on when the baby was born. They gathered beside the baptismal font in the Catholic church in Port Royal as their babies were baptized. Perhaps Marguerite stood as godmother for her younger siblings, knowing that of the two women, she was more likely to outlive her mother.

In 1682, when Marguerite, then 32 or so, and her family said goodbye to Port Royal and sailed north, her mother had been gone for between four years and a decade.

Madeleine and Philippe’s children apparently didn’t all live in Port Royal, at least not full time during this period, because their son, Philippe (Jr), born about 1660 married a Mi’kmaq woman about 1678. He may well have been living with his older brothers, Jacques or Abraham, in Pobomcoup. They all married between 1676 and 1678.

Jacques Mius d’Entremont, born about 1654, Madeleine’s oldest son, married Anne Saint-Etienne de LaTour about 1678, and they lived in Pobomcoup. That’s probably when Philippe Mius (Sr.) conveyed the Barony to him. It’s possible that the Anne, with no other name, in the 1678 census with Philippe Mius Sr. is Jacque’s wife, Anne.

Although Jacques lived in Pobomcoup, he must have traveled back and forth to Port Royal, because he made a deposition in 1685 that James Taylor of Boston has stolen from him and others in Port Royal. Jacques is connected to fishermen, specifically Jean Le Roy dit Laliberte who is a shoremaster for both Jacques and Charles St. Etienne de LaTour at a location with a Mi’kmaq name. This makes sense, since in the 1696 census, La Liberte Le Neigre is living by himself at Cap Sable, but by 1698 was back at Port Royal, living in the Melanson settlement.

Jacques had nine children, most of whom used the surname d’Entremont and remained in the Pobomcoup, now Pubnico, area.

He inherited the Barony and maintained it until his death in 1735 or 1736. The manor house location continues to be widely debated, given that it was destroyed when the English expelled all of the Acadians beginning in 1755. I documented possible locations in this article.

Regardless of where the manor house stood, a mill wheel was found in Hipson’s Brook, indicating that this location was of primary importance, grinding grain for the Pobomcoup families.

Pubnico Harbour, where the Philippe and Madeleine established their Barony and where Jacques spent his life is stunningly beautiful.

I wrote about my experience returning home to Pubnico, complete with pictures, here.

The English began the expulsion of the Pubnico Acadians in 1756 and finished their dirty work by burning everything. Some of Jacques’ descendants were sent to the English colonies and a few made their way back to Pubnico a decade later. Others were tracked through the woods, eventually caught, and imprisoned at Halifax in 1659, then were subsequently sent back to France. I wrote about that, here, including their petitions to return. It’s heartbreaking.

Abraham Mius or Mius de Pleinmarais, his dit name, Madeleine’s second-oldest son, was born about 1658 and married about 1680 to Marguerite Saint-Etienne de LaTour. In 1686 and 1693, they are living in Pobomcoup aka Cap Sable.

By 1703, Abraham is living in Port Royal where he spent the rest of his life. Unfortunately, that census does not show the amount of land in each household. However, given that he is listed second in the census, called “Mr. Plemarais, and they are living beside his wife’s sister, Marie Saint-Etienne de LaTour, the widow of Alexander Le Bourg de Belisle, this makes sense. Owning land, especially for the wealthy did not equate to actually living on and farming the land. This also causes me to wonder if Abraham’s parents, Madeleine Hélie and Philip Mius, were living beside the Le Bourg home back in the 1670s.

If so, that may narrow the location to the homes beside #8 on the 1686 map.

If that’s the case, then that restricts the candidates to a few that I can correlate to contemporary locations.

My cousins and I just happened to have dinner along the boardwalk, behind what is today a wine bar, in this same location or at least nearby, looking out over the beautiful river.

Obviously the Acadian buildings are gone, burned in 1755, but the waterfront is every bit as beautiful now as then.

It makes sense that Abraham would have wanted to reclaim his father’s home in Port Royal, since Jacques had the manor house in Pobomcoup, and Philippe Jr. was living with the Native people.

We don’t know if that’s what happened, and the O’Dell House map shows that Abraham’s widow was living south of Port Royal along the road headed out of town, at location #9 in 1710. I tend to doubt that, in part because she is enumerated beside her sister in the 1707 census, assuming it was in procession order, and we know where her sister who was married to Le Bourge lived. Those outlots are also far from the elite part of town. Abraham’s widow was, after all, a LaTour, and the widow of a Mius, both Noble families.

Regardless, we are moving far from Abraham Mius and his widow – and with the passage of time and each subsequent step, it’s more difficult to discern what actually occurred.

Abraham Mius Pleinmarais died towards the end of 1707, after his daughter’s August wedding and before the census where his wife is listed as Madeleine Plemarais, with her five children.

At this time, she is living on only one arpent of land, which is confusing, especially given that Abraham’s holding shown on the 1708 map is extensive. She may well have moved back to town, and that’s assuming they weren’t already living in Port Royal proper.

Abraham’s land was not far from the Melanson settlement, and I suspect this is the land originally owned by Abraham’s parents. It’s even more likely given that Abraham was clearly the “second son” in Pobomcoup, but opted instead for this large parcel of land in Port Royal. His father died in 1700, leaving him a Sieur in his own right, according to the 1762 French depositions.

This 1708 Labatt map, which was drawn the year after Abraham died, still shows his land, and also states that Bernard Bourg is living at the place called Plemarais, although that word is difficult to see.

The 1707 census for Bernard shows him cultivating 8 arpents of land. In 1686, he has 3 arpents, in 1693, 30 arpents, in 1698, 35 arpents with 45 fruit trees, in 1700, he was cultivating 30 arpents. This is suspiciously close to the 40 arpents claimed by Philippe Mius Sr. in 1686, especially since he had 9 arpents in 1678. At 80 years of age, and a man of letters, Philippe was clearly not farming this land himself.

If Abraham moved back from Pobomcoup after his father died, Bernard may have released the majority back to Abraham. Born in 1648, Bernard was over 50 years old and probably no longer up to maintaining more land than any other landholder in Acadia. Abraham Mius Pleinmarais was a decade younger.

Philippe Mius Jr., born about 1660, spent most of his formative years learning to hunt and fish among their neighbors in Pobomcoup, the Mi’kmaq, so marrying a Native woman wouldn’t have been anything unexpected.

Philippe Jr. and his first wife, whose name is unknown, had about four children before she died sometime after 1684, when daughter Francoise Mius was born, and before the 1686 census when he is found in Port Royal with his father. By about 1688, son Philippe the younger had returned to his beloved forests, married again to a second Native woman named Marie, indicating that she had been baptized as Catholic, and lived the rest of his life among the Native people.

Madeleine would never have met any of those grandchildren, given that Philippe married about the time she died, and they lived far away, at Pobomcoup or maybe even further, at Merligueche, near present-day Lunenburg.

Philippe’s descendants generally used the surname Mius, and are found among the Mi’kmaq. Philippe’s son, Francoise Mius, born about 1700 and who died after August 1763, was appointed Chief of the Mi’kmaq and resided at La Heve.

Conclusions

What conclusions can we draw here?

This evidence, taken together, means that Madeleine Hélie most likely lived in Port Royal beginning after the 1671 census, and died there between 1677 and 1678, given that they appear to have never returned to Pobomcoup. It also means that the children born in 1671, 1673, 1675, and 1677, along with daughter Madelaine, born about 1670, are all likely buried with her in Port Royal, while Madeleine Hélie’s half dozen children who died before 1671 are buried in a lost cemetery somewhere near where they lived in Pobomcoup.

By accounting for her known children, we can tell that Madeleine was born about 1633. She married about 1649 to a much older husband.

Depending on which records we have more confidence in, Philippe was between 40 and 49 in 1649, when Madeleine was between 14 and 16. Despite a quarter-century age difference, he went on to outlive her by a substantial margin. Life was especially treacherous for women. Every childbirth was a tug-of-war between life and death for both mother and child – a battle Madeleine may have lost.

Madeleine buried at least six children between 1652 and 1671, and three more by 1678.

That’s a minimum of nine children buried during her lifetime, and likely more.

Her namesake daughter, Marguerite, as she was listed in the 1678 census, and called Madeleine in the 1686 census, outlived her mother by a few years. She is never found in any records beyond 1686, so likely died between 1686 and 1693, joining her mother in the Port Royal Cemetery.

And the one-year-old baby in 1678? She joined her mother and siblings before 1686.

That means that of the 15 children that Madeleine brought into the world, and possibly more, only four survived to adulthood, and none of the nine born after 1660.

How absolutely crushing.

Madeleine’s four surviving children could not have been more different.

  1. Daughter Marguerite married a Huguenot, acted “crazy,” and refused to answer the Priest’s questions in 1671, and was one of the founders at Les Mines.
  2. Son Jacques became the second Baron de Pobomcoup, continuing his father’s legacy, and established the Mius d’Entremont family of Pubnico.
  3. Son Abraham settled in Pobomcoup, but then returned to Port Royal where he lived for the rest of his life. He had a substantial piece of land, probably his father’s 40 arpents, across the river from Port Royal.
  4. Madeleine’s youngest son, Philippe, married into the Mi’kmaq Tribe, twice, and lived his life among the Native people. His son became their Chief, but Philippe’s descendants would suffer immense heartache.

Madeleine’s Journey

I can’t help but think about Madeleine Hélie as a carefree young girl in France, running and playing in the sun-drenched golden fields.

Acadia hadn’t yet been settled, so even if she had known that Acadia existed, she would never have dreamed of going there. Travel then, such as it was, was pretty much a one-way, no-return ticket.

Yet, she did sail to Acadia and became a Noblewoman there, elevated to the status of Madame of the Barony of Pobomcoup.

But she would not breathe her last in her barony.

If Madeleine’s life story were a book, one would swear it has to be fiction.

She traveled to La Rochelle as a young bride. Having not yet seen her 20th birthday, she climbed aboard a rocking ship with her husband and embarked on the adventure of a lifetime.

She arrived at La Heve with a babe in arms and perhaps pregnant for her second child who would perish in a foreign land. How did she feel, burying that baby, with no family surrounding her as those clods of dirt thudded on the tiny coffin?

Surveying her new world, maybe she wondered where the rest of the people were, because the land was densely forested and barren of European women, at least in La Heve and Fort LaTour. From a bustling community, established for millennia, someplace in Normandy, to unbroken forest dappled with Native villages that moved with the seasons – the contrast must have seemed surreal, and unreal.

She assuredly cried for her family, but there was no going back.

When they finally arrived in Port Royal, she probably expected a city, but what she found were dirt cart paths, a beleaguered earthen fort, and 38 or 39 families consisting of about 270 people, scattered up and down the river. That would have meant only 38 or 39 adult women in the entire colony.

Did she think, “Good Lord, what have I done?”

Two years later, her status was elevated when they were awarded a massive land grant in Pobomcoup, where she would live even more remotely, with NO European women for company. She didn’t speak the Mi’kmaq language and would have been terribly isolated.

After 18 or 19 years in Pobomcoup, they moved back to Port Royal. By then, it had grown substantially, doubling in size, and probably seemed quite busy by comparison.

Madeleine died there a few years later, before she was even 50. She buried 9 or 10 children, and left behind her last child – an infant daughter less than a year old who desperately needed her mother.

On the other hand, Madeleine’s life was astounding, especially for a woman in the mid-1600s. She saw unheard of places and prayed in the cathedral of the forest. Her life of adventure probably seemed like a dream to many, and evolved into something she could never have imagined. She was unique among women of her time.

Madeleine inhabited the most remote yet starkly beautiful stretches of the Atlantic coastline, with few, if any, other European women nearby, and later lived among the elite of Port Royal.

Her blood runs in the veins of the Mi’kmaq people, the Cajuns of Louisiana, the American colonies, many people who settled in Quebec, exiles in Cherbourg, Normandy and the people who returned to Pubnico in the 1660s.

The price was dear, though – having to leave her family behind in France forever.

In Acadia, she survived untold drama, including the 1654 capture by the English, and Acadia’s rocky return to the French sixteen years later. She became a Noblewoman and lived in a manor house on the shores of the Atlantic.

Regardless, Madeleine’s life was still cut short. She wept at the graves of far too many children and probably would have traded everything to be able to raise the children she could not.

_____________________________________________________________

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Mitotree: First, the Tree – Now the Paper

It’s definitely a red-letter day.

Dr. Paul Maier, the lead author on the new paper Mitotree: The Universal Human Mitochondrial Reference Phylogeny at 10x the Resolution has uploaded the paper to the bioRxiv preprint server, here.

I want to congratulate all of the authors, most of whom are members of the FamilyTreeDNA R&D team as either employees or contractors. I’m a contractor and have had the honor of working with these amazing colleagues on this project since 2020.

About Mitotree

Mitotree was officially “born” on February 25, 2025, and the tree has been updated several times since. About 75% of FamilyTreeDNA’s customers who have taken the full-sequence mitochondrial DNA test received a more refined haplogroup with the release of Mitotree or subsequent updates. Those haplogroups are, on average, 2000 years newer than the person’s legacy Phylotree haplogroup, and some are much more recent.

This means that the tree branches have gotten much, much bushier close to the tips. In other words, lots more twigs and leaves!

Unfortunately, about 25% of testers did not receive a new haplogroup because they do not have any qualifying mutations:

  • Either because they have no additional mutations
  • Or because they have mutations, but they are unstable
  • Or because they have mutations, but no other testers have yet tested that match them to split a branch

The good news is that with the addition of haplotype clusters, everyone benefits from new matching and grouping tools. Testers are grouped into clusters on their matches page, and on the Match Time Tree in Discover, which is much more useful for genealogy.

I know this paper has been a long time coming, but it’s well worth the wait.

Mitotree was a massive undertaking. We began with PhyloTree v17 which had 5,438 hand-curated branches constructed from 24,275 full and partial mitochondrial sequences. Phylotree was last updated in 2016 before subsequently being abandoned.

The Million Mito Team developed Mitotree, a robust phylogeny with more than 54,000 branches formed from over 330,000 complete mitochondrial sequences, of which 177,196 are unique sequences.

Let’s Look Under the Hood

There are three critical pieces of information in those statements.

First, the PhyloTree curation and maintenance was not automated, and a paper detailing their build process, what mutations were included or excluded, and under what circumstances was never published.

Approximately once a year, a new PhyloTree was published where newer samples were individually evaluated and new haplogroups were hand-grafted onto an existing backbone tree.

This methodology did not allow for deep splits to become apparent, because the tree itself was never recalculated. This is exactly how haplogroup L7 went undetected until the Million Mito Team recalculated the tree, including the backbone, in 2022, and published this paper about L7’s discovery.

In other words, while PhyloTree was publicly available, there was no recipe for how it was created or maintained.

Clearly, the tree-building process had to be automated, as hand-curation was unsustainable. There were no academic programs in existence capable of handling the number of samples involved. Not even in 2016 for fewer than 25,000 samples, let alone today.

To maintain haplogroup naming consistency, the first thing our team had to do was write software to phylogenetically reverse engineer PhyloTree v17 to establish a common foundation on which to build. This step was essential for consistency and maintaining the established haplogroup naming pattern.

That software also had to be capable of scaling up exponentially. The first versions took weeks to run, which clearly wasn’t an acceptable long-term solution. Still, being able to establish a foundational backbone to build on programmatically was a victory in and of itself.

Second, PhyloTree used partial sequences, meaning HVR1 and HVR2 samples. Early academic researchers did not perform full sequence testing, so the curators of PhyloTree used what was available to the best of their ability.

With over 330,000 full-sequence samples available today, we no longer include partial samples.

Third, 177,196 of the 331,221 full sequence samples used were unique. Before launching the program to construct the tree, identical samples from known immediate relatives are deduped, when possible, in order to reduce unnecessary clutter and processing time.

This means two things. The actual number of testers is greater than 331,000. But more importantly, anyone who thinks that mitochondrial DNA isn’t interesting should take another look. More than half of the sequences used for tree-building are unique, which handily dispels the myth that mitochondrial DNA doesn’t mutate often enough to be useful for genealogy.

The Mitotree initiative has been both scientifically and genealogically successful beyond anything we could have imagined. The base tree includes approximately 180 branches that are older than 30,000 years, including the discovery of haplogroup L7 at 100,000 years old. These branches both expand and more firmly root the oldest portions of the tree.

Amazingly, haplogroup L7 has living descendants whose earliest known family members are found in Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, the UAE, Palestinian Territory, Ethiopia, Sudan, and South Africa.

Another fun discovery involved Otzi, the Iceman, a mummy found frozen in the Italian Alps who lived more than 5,000 years ago. He was thought to carry an extinct haplogroup, K1ö, named in his honor, but as it turns out, he’s actually a member of haplogroup K1f, a clade with living descendants in Algeria. Additionally, Otzi now matches four ancient burials too, so he does have cousins.

We couldn’t have made these discoveries without the right people testing, so please encourage everyone and dispel the discouraging myth that mitochondrial DNA isn’t useful or interesting. It absolutely IS, and the success stories keep rolling in!

Why Build a Phylogenetic Tree?

Simply put, the history of our ancestors, both recently and reaching back into ancient history, is revealed in the tree – and there’s absolutely no other avenue to reach this information. Ironically, it’s readily available to everyone because everyone has mitochondrial DNA and can easily take the test.

Mitochondrial DNA is different than Y-DNA, which has its own phylogenetic tree based on SNP mutations, and autosomal DNA, which has no tree.

The reason that both Y-DNA and mitochondrial DNA can have phylogenetic trees is that they are inherited from the appropriate parent with only occasional mutations, while autosomal DNA is roughly halved in each generation.

Y-DNA is inherited by males only from their fathers, with no admixture from their mother, while mitochondrial DNA is inherited by everyone from only their mothers, with no admixture from their father.

Autosomal DNA is inherited through random recombination, with half coming from each parent, except for the X chromosome which has its own inheritance pattern. X-DNA is often confused with mitochondrial DNA, but they are entirely different types of DNA. I wrote about that here.

No tree is possible for autosomal DNA, because it gets diced and riced in each generation.

The mutations that occur occasionally and randomly in both Y and mitochondrial DNA form a trail of breadcrumbs leading backward in time, or in our case, they form both the trunk and branches on the tree.

Those unique mutations, once they occur, are inherited by subsequent generations, forming a path back in time.

In current generations, those mutations provide testers with the ability to identify our closest cousins who inherited those same mutations and who have taken either a Big Y-700 test, in males, or a mitochondrial DNA full sequence test for everyone.

In this conceptual example, you can see that Ancestor 1 carries mutation A, as do the next two generations who inherited it from their parent. However, Ancestor 4 now has additional mutation B, so that person carries mutations A+B. This inheritance pattern continues through the apricol lineage as mutations C and D are added in subsequent generations, until “You” are born with A+B+C+D.

Your cousin’s ancestor, on the other hand, was also born to Ancestor 4 and carries both A+B, as seen in the green column. Three generations later, that line added mutation F. Your  ancestor 7 added mutation C, so now the apricot and green lineages can easily be genetically distinguished from each other.

When a living person tests, we immediately know, based on the combination of their mutations, if and where they fit in this lineage, because both the apricot and green branches have accumulated unique mutations that the original blue Ancestor 4 and earlier ancestors did not have.

Using our knowledge of the tree branches, when and where they occurred, provides valuable genealogical information, along with fascinating Ancient Connections, both since and prior to the adoption of surnames.

Both Y-DNA and mitochondrial DNA can reach much further back in time than autosomal DNA because they are not diluted with DNA from the other parent in each generation.

So mitochondrial DNA is both broad, meaning many leaves, and deep, meaning it helps us look straight back in time like a laser sight, all the way to the common ancestor of all humanity, Mitochondrial Eve, who lived about 140,000 years ago in Africa.

Mitochondrial DNA Presents Unique Challenges

Mitochondrial DNA presents challenges not found in Y-DNA tree building.

For example, mitochondrial DNA only has 16,569 locations available to utilize, while Y-DNA currently uses roughly 22 million “gold standard” locations on the Y chromosome.

Of those 16,569 mitochondrial locations, some are not reliable enough for tree-building.

Unreliable mutations include:

  • Insertions, where extra copies of a particular nucleotide (Thymine, Adenine, Cytosine and Guanine) have been inserted at a specific location. Those are indicated by designations such as 309.1C where 309 indicates the marker location, .1 indicates the number of insertions at that location, and C (for Cytosine in this example) indicates the nucleotide inserted.
  • Heteroplasmies occur when multiple nucleotides are detected at a specific location. They are reported by a different letter than T, A, C or G, depending on which of multiple nucleotides are found. Heteroplasmies tend to “come and go” based on detection and threshold levels, so they can’t be used the same way as more stable mutations for tree building – and are often, but not always, unreliable for genealogy. I wrote about this in the article, What is a Heteroplasmy and Why Do I Care?.

Those locations and types of mutations have been excluded from forming tree branches, or downweighted, because they are too prone to mutating back and forth. However, they *might* be useful for genealogical purposes. Less-than-reliable mutations are now used to create haplotype clusters, even though they aren’t used to create new branches on the Mitotree.

I wrote about how haplogroups and haplotype clusters are formed in these articles:

Weighting and Confidence Factors

Mitotree formation would have been a lot easier if delineations, meaning inclusions and exclusions, were clear, either yes or no, but they aren’t.

Some were obvious from the get-go, such as insertions at location 309 and elsewhere, but other situations were much less obvious.

For example, sometimes there’s a specific location that seems prone to reversion, mutating back and forth, meaning that it mutates, then returns to its original state, then repeats the process.

Reversions are a natural phenomenon that occurs frequently in mitochondrial DNA, but is rarely, if ever, found in Y-DNA.

Let’s look at an example.

Courtesy Dr. Paul Maier

How many reversions at the same location are too many, especially if they are close in the tree?

In the above example, the mutation from A to G occurs just below the first arrow, forming haplogroup L1, a branch of L. The red areas all carry that mutation, subsequently forming eight new branches.

However, one step downstream from that mutation, just above the second arrow, location 7055 back-mutates, or reverts to A from G, which is indicated by the “!”. That reverse mutation forms haplogroup L1c3.

If location 7055 continues to flip back and forth between A and G, at what point do we have less confidence in that location, and at what point should a location be excluded from the tree and prevented from creating or dividing a branch?

The answer is that “it depends,” sometimes on the branch, sometimes on the “group” of other mutations it’s found with, and other factors. Some locations are stable in some parts of the tree, but unstable in others. We certainly never expected to see that!

This means the team had to design and build a weighting methodology so that relevant mutations, such as reversions, are not summarily excluded from tree building but instead carry different confidence weighting levels, depending on the circumstances.

Some samples, such as ancient DNA, were down-weighted in general due to their propensity to contain artifacts resulting from deterioration. Ancient samples can still influence branching, just not as much as a high-quality modern sample.

Furthermore, especially when utilizing academic samples, results with a high number of heteroplasmies are excluded, along with those with ambiguous reads and missing upstream mutations, which were previously inferred with PhyloTree. Academic samples vary in quality and age, and we have no way of knowing which quality criteria were used by that lab at that time.

These types of variances made constructing and updating the Mitotree more challenging than the Y-DNA tree, which is not subject to weighting, resulting from phylogenetic tug-of-war between mutations.

In some situations, the addition of just one test can make the difference between a new branch, or no branch, in a subsequent run of the tree. Due to this type of scenario, and fine-tuning the algorithm, some people’s new haplogroups have reverted to an earlier haplogroup in subsequent Mitotree updates.

The paper and supplemental materials provide details about the exclusion process, types of exclusions, and a list of excluded marker locations.

You can view the confidence of any haplogroup in the Classic Mitotree view in Discover.

My haplogroup, J1c2f, is formed by the mutation G9055A, and you can see that the confidence rank is 7.5 out of 10.

Mousing over the little up-arrow tree icon beside the star explains changes in nearby branches, which can affect the haplogroup’s confidence ranking.

Branches are not renamed for convenience, and only when phylogenetically warranted. Existing haplogroup names used either on PhyloTree, in academic literature, or previously on the Y-Full tree are either maintained or avoided to eliminate potential confusion. No one wants two different haplogroup names depending on which tree is being viewed.

Previously obsoleted names remain permanently obsoleted and are not reused.

The paper explains further about technical corrections and tie-breaker situations. In some cases, potential branches with equal or near-equal weighting are flagged for team review.

Amazing Discoveries

I encourage everyone to read the section in the paper beginning with “Notable discoveries.” These aren’t people, as in Discover’s Notable Connections, but scientific accomplishments achieved with the new Mitotree.

Our knowledge of human migration within and out of Africa has been greatly refined, as well as the ancestral path into and across Eurasia, Asia, and into the Pacific Rim. If you have unusual mitochondrial haplogroups such as L, M, N, P, Q, R or S, you’ll absolutely want to read this.

Of course, in time these haplogroups branch and become Paleolithic haplogroups, then the Gravettian-Mesolithic followed by the Hunter-Gatherers found throughout Europe that we are familiar with. We’ve learned a great deal from rare ancient DNA samples that anchor more modern haplogroups in a place and time, and inform us of migration patterns as well as how now-extinct ghost populations gave rise to current ones.

The earliest humans, whom Mitotree has more firmly anchored, formed a trickle out of Africa that became a bifurcated stream, eventually flowing across the rest of the world. What recorded and even archaeological history cannot tell us can be and is revealed through the patterns held in our DNA today – and Mitotree is our map to read them. Common ancestors are found where our mutations as haplogroups converge, joining as we travel backward in time, piercing an otherwise impenetrable veil.

For those with Native American ancestry, Mitotree expands the two-wave theory, refining it into five or six probable migration surges, depending on how you count, based on a combination of haplogroup ages and distribution.

Summarizing from the paper:

The first wave of haplogroups A2, B2, C1b, C1c, C1d, D1, and D4h3a arrived from Asia, across Beringia or along the Pacific Corridor, about 17,000 to 18,500 years ago, and expanded along the Pacific coast. D4h3a is found almost exclusively in the Pacific region.

This was followed by haplogroup C4c about 15,800 years ago and X2a about 10,000 years ago, which expanded into the interior through the ice-free corridor east of the Rockies after the ice melted.

Next were the Paleo-Eskimo and Na-Dene speakers in haplogroups A2a, D2a, D2b, D2c/D3, and D4b1a2a1a2, who, between 3000 and 7000 years ago, made their way from Alaska, across the polar regions of Canada, into Greenland.

Na-Dene speakers, Apache and Navajo, in haplogroups A2a and B2a made their way southwest between 1300 and 1500 CE, or between 500 and 700 years ago.

Last, the present-day Inuit-Yupik expanded from Beringia to Greenland about 1000 CE.

For additional information, please see the Native American lineages section of the paper.

Mitotree has also clarified the ancestors of the Ainu/Jomon people from Hokkaido, Japan, and their ancient Paleolithic northwest Asian and Siberian relatives. The ancestors of this group and Native Americans share even earlier Asian ancestors.

The history of the Jewish people has been significantly refined as well, expanding on earlier works, and is found in the Counting the newest Jewish founders section of the paper.

  • 43% of Ashkenazi Jewish testers fell into 5 founding lineages where they had no subclades before, but they do now.
  • Two clades of haplogroup K have now been split 4000 to 5000 years ago in Romania.
  • There’s new information about the crypto-Jewish community in Portugal, Mountain Jews from Persia and the Caucasus, plus Jewish groups in India, Georgia, Azerbaijan, Israel and Libya.
  • Additionally, haplogroup M33c9b tells the story of Ashkenazi Silk Road merchants who traveled between China and Europe.

The paper reports the isolation of Sardinian-specific haplogroups and provides substantially greater structural definition for the Saami people, increasing from 22 subclades to more than 300.

The Notable discoveries section is chock full of information.

Genealogy Jump-Start

Today’s tree is ten times larger than the 2016 tree, and will continue to grow as more people take a full sequence mitochondrial DNA test, available at FamilyTreeDNA.

The greatly improved tree alone is not the only facilitator of genealogical success. A dozen reports, including Haplotype Clusters and the Match Time Tree are provided for all full-sequence testers in Discover. I wrote about how to effectively use your matches and Discover to break through genealogy brick walls, here.

There are a couple of things you need to do to increase your opportunities for success and to help Discover and Mitotree.

Genealogy is a team sport, and you can increase everyone’s success rate by completing (and updating) your Earliest Known Ancestor (EKA) and location information, found under “Account Settings” beneath your name in the upper right hand corner when signed on, then “Genealogy”, then “Earliest Known Ancestor”, and by providing a family tree or a link to WikiTree.

Identifying common ancestors is what testing is all about, and these are all important success factors. Everyone wants to identify previously unknown ancestors.

Mitotree is More Than Genealogy

Of course, as genealogists, we’re focused on how to use the new Mitotree information, paired with Discover, to identify brick-walled ancestors and learn more about them. I’ve written specifically about how to do that in these two articles:

Mitotree isn’t just an explosion for genealogy, though – it’s an incredible scientific achievement. Instead of genealogy benefiting from other specialties, now they can benefit from what genealogy has wrought.

Mitotree presents opportunities to rethink and potentially recalculate dating and information in other fields, such as archaeology, medical genetics, forensics, and history.

We know vastly more than ever before, but this is only the beginning.

With each new tester and every ancient genome added to the growing body of evidence, our understanding becomes more refined, revealing insights about our ancestors, and weaving our thread into the broader tapestry of human history.

_____________________________________________________________

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Robert Vernon Estes (1931-1951): DNA and Hope for Military Repatriation

Robert Vernon Estes was my first cousin, my father’s brother’s son. I’m named after him, but I never knew him. He died years before I was born.

Robert, known as Bobby, was born on March 27, 1931 in White County, Indiana. He, along with his unit, were captured near Kunu-ri in North Korea on November 30, 1950, and he died as a prisoner-of-war around January 31, 1951 – at least that’s the date officially assigned to his death.

Truth be told, his death date is an estimate based on the recollections of men who survived the horrific deprivation, freezing temperatures, and starvation endured by the captured soldiers. He was likely buried in a mass grave outside the compound where Bobby, along with most of the other US soldiers who were held there, died.

Bobby was posthumously awarded the rank of Corporal. 

The Korean conflict active combat operations ended on July 27, 1953, when an Armistice agreement was signed between the US, North Korea, and China. A demilitarized zone (DMZ) was established, but a peace treaty was never signed, so technically, the US and North Korea are still at war. The two countries do not maintain diplomatic relations, and their relationship could be described as “frosty” at best.

While some military personnel from both the US and our ally, South Korea, have been repatriated, a long history of hostility and other challenges, including the remains of US soldiers being used as bargaining chips, have prevented the return of more than 5300 service members whose remains are still essentially being held hostage in Korea. If I sound bitter, that’s because I am.

Beginning in 1954, some remains have been brought home, but identification from the beginning was difficult, often due to comingled remains resulting from mass burials. Those remains were identified when possible, using techniques available at the time, and all remains were honorably buried.

Recently, due to advances in processing forensic remains and autosomal DNA matching, another 100 people have been identified from 55 boxes of mixed remains turned over following the 2018 Singapore Summit. Those boxes are believed to hold bones from roughly 250 distinct individuals, so the majority have yet to be identified.

Unidentified remains are buried at the Punchbowl, the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, in Honolulu, Hawaii. More than 800 graves are marked as “Unknown” from the Korean War and await exhumation for advanced DNA testing.

By Gage Skidmore from Surprise, AZ, United States of America – National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=115138509

While there is no burial, missing service members are honored in the Honolulu Memorial within the cemetery. 

The names of the missing are etched on the walls of the Courts of the Missing.

Bobby’s name was also engraved on the Wall of Remembrance at the National Korean War Veterans Memorial in Washington DC when they included the names of the missing in 2022.  

Here’s a closeup.

Because Bobby was held above the DMZ, in North Korea proper, in a deserted mining camp called the Pukchin Camp, nicknamed Death Valley, and because the North Koreans were uncooperative, Bobby’s remains were classified as “nonrecoverable” in January 1956.

Hope Rekindled

Unrecoverable in 1956 based on political circumstances and lack of information about which soldiers had been captured, where they were held, when they died, and where burials for that facility occurred, doesn’t necessarily mean unrecoverable forever.

Today, Bobby’s status has been updated to “deferred” which isn’t quite as final and hopeless as “nonrecoverable.”

In 1956, they had no way of knowing about DNA and technology that would become available decades in the future.

Unfortunately, the political environment has remained essentially unchanged now for 70 years, but 70 years isn’t forever.

Yes, I know that identifying Bobby’s remains and bringing him home are both extremely unlikely, but a very low probability is not zero.

As genetic genealogists, we understand that with the passage of generations, the amount of shared autosomal DNA decreases with each generational recombination, so it was important for me to work with AFDIL to preserve my DNA in the hope of one day identifying Bobby – even after I’m gone from this mortal realm.

I might not be able to stand in Arlington, honoring Bobby as he is buried, but maybe my daughter will. Hope springs eternal!

DNA Analysis

The military began collecting DNA samples using bloodstain cards in 1992. For soldiers who served before that and whose remains needed to be identified, various types of forensic analysis were performed.

In the 1990s, when DNA first began to be used for service member identification, DNA matching was performed using mitochondrial DNA because there are hundreds of copies of mitochondria in the cytoplasm of each cell, which means mitochondrial DNA is easier to recover in degraded remains.

This also meant that a sample was needed from the soldier’s mother, sibling, or a relative in the soldier’s direct matrilineal line, not interrupted by a male. Women contribute their mitochondrial DNA to children of both sexes, not intermixed with any DNA from the father, but males do not pass it on to their children.

Around 2010, Y-DNA, passed from father to son, began to be used by AFDIL as well.

At that time, the remains were not processed to extract DNA for autosomal matching, as ancient or forensic DNA extraction technology did not yet exist – and has only been refined for widespread utilization in the past few years. Initially, autosomal matches for repatriation were only used to match immediate family members, so DNA testing was unavailable to cousins of soldiers.

Men who died in WWI, WWII, Korea, and Vietnam may not have immediate family members left – and that number dwindles daily.

  • Bobby had no children.
  • Bobby’s mother, Lucille Latta, was born in 1906 and died in 1952. She had only one sibling, a brother who died in 1966, and their mother was adopted, so there was no source to obtain Bobby’s mitochondrial DNA for matching.
  • Bobby’s only sibling, a brother who had no sons, died in 1986, and their father, Joseph Estes, died in 1994, eliminating the possibility of Y-DNA matching.

This means that there were no immediate or appropriately related family members available for either mitochondrial or Y-DNA testing – effectively slamming the door on the possibility of identification.

The DNA results of soldiers’ remains, and their family members, are held separately from any commercial or law-enforcement databases, so without an appropriately descended family member’s DNA test submitted for this specific purpose, there is no opportunity to identify the soldier.

Until recently, more distant family members were precluded from participating.

The AFDIL Team

In 2023 and 2024, I was privileged to work with the AFDIL team on the Washington Family Project. This was a proof-of-concept project, of sorts. AFDIL undertook this project in the process of refining their methodologies for working with badly degraded remains. The Washington Project was perfect because we knew who was supposed to be buried in each location. The team authored an exciting paper detailing the results.

It gives me cold chills to realize that I was a small part of the effort to open the door for more distant family members to submit autosomal results to identify their missing service members. When we started working together, they had no idea that I’m a Gold Star family member, representing Bobby, and I had no idea the doors this project would open.

Today, those efforts have borne fruit. AFDIL has expanded its family participation policies and guidelines.

Needless to say, I’m thrilled.

Swabbing for Bobby

I requested my swab kit as soon as possible.

I was so excited the day the package arrived.

In addition to swabs, the package included a letter plus several pages of information and instructions.

For notification, be sure that someone living and reliable is listed as the primary contact for your soldier. We discovered that no one was listed for Bobby, but now I’m his official contact and I’m also his closest living next-of-kin.

Oh good, now we’re getting to the DNA swabbing part! Not that I’m anxious or anything!

I had to sit down and really study this chart, which was difficult given my level of excitement. I needed to make sure I really qualified. I mean, I knew I was supposed to – but this was the hard line do-not-pass-go paper right here. A tiny part of me was terrified that something had gone wrong and I wouldn’t be accepted.

The missing soldier is the blue center. I labeled “Me” four images to the right.

AFDIL invested a lot of time in creating this chart that includes autosomal candidates in yellow, mitochondrial candidates with red borders, and Y-DNA candidates with thick dark blue borders.

They had put an oval around “me” on the chart based on their understanding of our relationship from previously submitted documentation. In the paperwork, they asked me to confirm the relationship again.

Next came the swab kit and the labels.

Now I’ve swabbed and labeled everything, following the instructions.

Popping them into the included FedEx envelope.

All I had to do was find a FedEx shipping location and drop the envelope off. I cried as I did the handoff – praying that someday these little vials will provide the key to identifying Bobby.

A week or so later, I received an email stating that my sample had been received and was being processed.

They would be in touch if anything else was needed from me, or, if anything was found.

Now…we wait. Perhaps forever.

But maybe not.

I’ve now preserved the possibility of identifying Bobby’s remains if they are ever returned. And a tiny part of me has my fingers crossed that some of his bones were in that mixed sample, simply waiting for the technology to catch up.

This Memorial Day Weekend

This Memorial Day weekend, in addition to writing this article, I’m working on a wall-hanging to honor Bobby and his ultimate sacrifice.

I’ve been working on this for a while, but it’s so emotionally intense for me that I have to put it away and give myself a break from time to time.

Obviously, I’m working on the layout and I’ve laid these blocks alongside the panel to illustrate. When finished, there will be two rows of stars that function as borders surrounding the center panel.

I’m debating whether I should put a gold star in the center of both sides, or a smaller gold star in the center of a star block, or maybe gold stars of some sort in all four corners. I’m also considering having Bobby’s name, along with his birth and death dates, embroidered near the boots.

After my death and my daughter’s, I’ve left instructions for this quilt to be donated to the Indiana Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Monument, if they want it, where the brick honoring Bobby’s service was laid in the summer of 2021.

You can read more about Bobby in these articles:

Honoring Bobby and Other Unrecovered Soldiers

For years, it has been my dream to attend Bobby’s military burial at Arlington National Cemetery. He has earned that, and it seems that’s the least, the very least, we could do for him. Of course, part of warfare is psychological, not just physical, and refusing to return the remains of those killed is part of that. Even worse is knowing how he was tortured and died.

My heart still bleeds for him and his mother.

We don’t know if Bobby’s remains will ever be “discovered” and brought home. I’d say it’s extremely unlikely.

We don’t know if, by some miracle, Bobby’s remains are among those unidentified mixed samples already buried in Hawaii. That too is unlikely because Bobby was held in a remote location and his remains, wherever they actually lie, are not easily accessible.

As each generation dies, and as Bobby’s bones age, the chance of obtaining a quality DNA match decreases.

While I can’t do anything about the passage of time, nor about Bobby’s bones deteriorating, I can make sure my own DNA is preserved in AFDIL’s Family Reference Database, maintained by the Family Reference Sample Laboratory, a division of the Armed Forces Medical Examiner System’s DNA Identification Laboratory (AFMES-AFDIL). You can read more here and here.

You can search for a POW/MIA service member, here.

If you qualify to submit a sample for a deceased service member whose remains have yet to be identified, you can’t order a DNA sample kit directly like we do from testing companies. You need to request a DNA sample kit after providing information about how you and the soldier are related. You’ll be assigned a case number and a case worker.

Click on this link for more information, including websites, or call the appropriate number below to determine if you qualify and to request a DNA kit.

  • United States Army: (800) 892-2490
  • United States Marine Corps: (800) 847-1597
  • United States Navy: (800) 443-9298
  • United States Air Force: (800) 531-5501
  • Department of State: (202) 485-6106

This Memorial Day, please remember the sacrifices of our fallen heroes, those veterans who never came home, and their families who never stopped waiting.

Philippe Mius d’Entremont: Y-DNA Provides Amazing Information – 52 Ancestors #478

In 2012, Pauline d’Entremont and Clark Robbins founded the Mius-dEntremont DNA Project at FamilyTreeDNA. Denis Beauregard later adopted the project after Pauline retired and Clark passed away.

I want to thank all three administrators, but especially Pauline and Clark. Without their early recruitment efforts, we would not be able to view these results and compare the Y-DNA of the project participants who have granted permission for public display.

When the Mius-d’Entremont DNA project was first launched, the administrators documented the theories about the origins of Philippe Mius d’Entremont and his wife, Madeleine Helie, that they hoped to either prove or disprove. I’ve summarized them in the following section, but you can read them in detail, here and here.

With several theories about who Philippe Mius d’Entremont was, and his origins, Y-DNA results of his descendants are critically important. Thankfully, several of his direct male-to-male descendants, who carry his Y chromosome, have taken Y-DNA tests at FamilyTreeDNA.

The Mius-dEntremont DNA Project holds a wealth of information. We’ll review the genetic information and clues after the theories.

We enter this mystery with little information about Philippe prior to his arrival in Acadia.

Based on two original sources, we know Philippe and his wife were reported to be from Normandy. A 1762 legal document in France stated that the Mius d’Entremont family was “originally from Normandy,” and on December 3, 1707, the King’s Secretary wrote to the ministers in France that “Sieur Philippe d’Entremont, a native of Normandy, died seven years ago at the age of 99 years and some months.”

We know that Charles St. Etienne LaTour, governor of Acadia, brought Philippe from France in 1651 as his second-in-command, and awarded him a large grant of land in 1653 that includes today’s Pubnico Harbour and surrounding land on both sides.

I wrote about Philippe in the following articles, laying the groundwork for his DNA results.

The Theories

I have summarized the various theories, as I know many people will wonder if the DNA results support, or refute them. I’ve also incorporated information discovered after the original theory was proposed. Theories 1 and 2 were proposed and evaluated by Father Clarence d’Entremont (1909-1998) in his book, The Acdians and their Genealogy, published in 1975. Theory 3 is a combination of his work and the original administrators’ thoughts, and Theories 4 and 5 are derivatives of the other theories.

The only reason I mention these theories at all is because they remain in the public domain, and if we don’t address them, they are certain to be viewed as “undiscovered evidence” by future researchers. I have also documented what would be required to prove each theory.

Theory 1: Nicolaus Mousche/Mius, the Student – Lacks Evidence

From Father d’Entremont’s book, pages 803 to 813.

This theory, based on the work of Father Clarence Joseph d’Entremont, proposed that Philippe Mius d’Entremont may descend from a man named Nicolaus Mius, a 16th-century student at the University of Orléans and possibly the same person as “Nicolas Mousche,” an interpreter and loyal follower of Gaspard de Coligny. Both men were killed during the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572.

The theory suggests that, in recognition of Nicolaus’s loyalty and sacrifice, the family of Coligny’s widow, Jacqueline de Montbel d’Entremont, may have adopted one of his sons. This child could have taken on the combined name “Mius d’Entremont,” linking both biological and noble associations.

The theory explains the dual nature of the surname: “Mius” as a patronymic and “d’Entremont” as a noble territorial name. However, issues with this theory are:

  • No indication that Mousche is Mius
  • No connection between the student and Gaspare de Coligny
  • No evidence for this hypothesis
  • Philippe Mius d’Entremont cannot be the son adopted, because he was born between 1600 and 1609, based on various later documents

Despite these uncertainties, Clarence d’Entremont considered this the most plausible explanation among competing theories at that time.

Proof Standard:

What would be needed to prove this? Either documents connecting the parties, and/or Y-DNA results from someone proven to descend from Nicolaus Mius or Mousche that match the Mius d’Entremont testers. The same DNA tests could also disprove the theory. I would want to see a test from a descendant of both men.

Theory 2: Alias François Virgine d’Entremont – Disproven

Pages 791-792.

This second theory proposes that Philippe Mius d’Entremont was actually François Virgine d’Entremont, a member of a prominent Savoyard noble family and descendant of Gaspard de Coligny. According to this hypothesis, François Virgine may have changed his name and fled France around 1651 to escape political or religious persecution, eventually settling in Acadia under the name Philippe Mius d’Entremont. A perceived similarity between their wives’ names—Madeleine Hélie in Acadia and Madeleine Élie du Tillet in France—has also been cited as supporting this identification.

Substantial documentary and chronological evidence strongly contradicts this theory.

  • Archival records place François Virgine d’Entremont in France between approximately 1653 and 1670, actively managing or declaring feudal holdings, while Philippe Mius d’Entremont is independently documented in Acadia during that same period.
  • François Virgine appears to have died before 1671, while Philippe Mius d’Entremont lived until 1700 in Acadia.
  • A 1671 record confirms that Madeleine Élie du Tillet was in France at that time and already widowed, whereas Madeleine Hélie, wife of Philippe, was living in Acadia.
  • Madeleine Élie du Tillet is documented as having married in 1631 and died in 1692 in France, whereas Madeleine Hélie was born around 1626 and married Philippe around 1649, making it chronologically impossible for them to be the same person.

Taken together, these records demonstrate that the two men – and their wives – were living separate, overlapping lives in different locations, conclusively disproving this theory.

Theory 3: Theory 1 But Without Coligny – Lacks Evidence

Original Project Administrator’s supposition from pages 790-791, 792-797.

Theory 3 proposes that Philippe Mius d’Entremont and his immediate ancestors were simply part of a “Mius” family with no known connection to Gaspard de Coligny or the de Montbel d’Entremont lineage. In this scenario, Philippe may have been descended from Nicolaus Mius (as in Theory 1, but without any adoption into a noble family), loosely related to that Mius line, or even from an entirely separate Mius family of possible German or Dutch origin that later settled in Normandy or the Lorraine region.

The “d’Entremont” portion of his name is explained not through noble inheritance, but as a geographic or “nom de terre.” It may have come from a place name in Normandy, from “Landremont/Lendremont” in Lorraine (possibly reflected in early records), or even evolved from a similar surname like “d’Autremont.”

Landremont is far from Normandy, about 550 km from where known Mius family Y-DNA matches are found.

While this theory neatly accounts for both “Mius” and “d’Entremont,” it lacks any direct evidence.

Proof Standard:

Need documents connecting the parties, and/or Y-DNA results from someone proven to descend from Nicolaus Mius, the student, that matches the Mius d’Entremont testers.

Theory 4: Theory 3 But Philippe Was a Commoner – Entirely Speculative

Theory 4 builds on Theory 3 but suggests that Philippe Mius was not originally a nobleman at all, but rather a commoner who adopted “d’Entremont” as a kind of “fantasy” surname. This name may have reflected a place of origin in France (such as a village named Entremont) and could have been assumed either before or after his arrival in Acadia, even prior to receiving any formal title.

Under this view, the “d’Entremont” name was not inherited but self-selected, later becoming legitimized when Charles de Saint-Étienne de la Tour granted Philippe the barony of Pobomcoup (Pubnico) in 1653.

While this explanation accounts for how the name could arise without noble lineage and is a possibility, it remains speculative and lacks any supporting evidence.

Proof Standard:

Same issues as Theory 3. Need a matching male or males in France with derivatives of the Mius surname, or find evidence of Philippe in France.

Theory 5: Theories 1 & 2 Plus Adoption – Disproven

Another theory, proposed by Michael Talbot, combines elements of Theories 1 and 2. It suggests that a son of Nicolaus Mius (Philippe’s proposed father in this theory) was adopted not by the de Montbel d’Entremont family, but by the d’Albon de Montauban de Meuillon family—possibly at the request of Jacqueline de Montbel d’Entremont’s lineage. As an adult, this adopted son would then have married into the family of Gaspard de Coligny, producing descendants such as François Virgine d’Entremont. Through this chain of relationships, the theory attempts to explain both the “Mius” patronymic surname and the “d’Entremont” surnom de terre.

This theory is disproven for the same reasons that Theory 2 is disproven.

Comparative Evaluation of Theories

Theories 2 and 5 are entirely disproven, based on evidence that has become available since Father d’Entremont wrote his book, and Theories 1, 3, and 4 are speculative, with no evidence. At this point, we can effectively dismiss all of them by simply saying that we need either connecting records or Y-DNA tests, or both.

Y-DNA evidence, or previously undiscovered records, may shed light on the origin of Philippe Mius d’Entremont. Cousin Mark checked again recently for the possibility of new records having become available, with nothing new appearing for Philippe.

Does Y-DNA testing provide any insight?

Yes, as a matter of fact!

A French Mius Match

Quoting the original administrators of the Mius-d’Entremont DNA project:

Many years ago, the late Father Clarence d’Entremont, Acadian genealogist and historian, was in contact with the family of this matching French Mius during one of his visits to France for research. At that time, it was not possible to know if that family was related to the Acadian Mius d’Entremonts or not. Now, thanks to DNA testing, we know that they are, one way or the other.

The earliest known person in the confirmed (verified) portion of the paternal line of this family, named Robert Mius, was born prior to 1702, in Theuville aux Maillots, Seine-Maritime, Haute-Normandie, which is at least 53 years before the fateful ‘Grand Dérangement’ of 1755.

We already established in the earlier articles that about 100 of Philippe’s descendants escaped the roundup by the British in 1758 by hiding in the woods.

In 1759, after barely surviving a brutal winter, they were tracked down, captured, and sent first to Georges Island in Halifax Harbor, then to England, and then in 1760 to Cherbourg, Normandy, France.

Being able to track the ancestors of the Mius DNA tester in France to around 1702 removes the possibility that he is a descendant of Philippe Mius d’Entremont’s family members who were exiled in the mid-1700s.

It also answers the question of whether Philippe’s heritable surname was Mius or d’Entremont. It was clearly Mius.

D’Entremont came from someplace else, possibly a place name or a description of some sort. In any event, the French ancestors of the Mius man whose Y-DNA matches that of the descendants of Philippe Mius d’Entremont do NOT carry the d’Entremont portion of the name.

Now that we have a location, let’s see what we can discover.

Theuville-aux-Maillots

The village of Theuville-aux-Maillots is a small rural village in the upper portion of Normandy, far from La Rochelle where ships for Acadia departed, and almost as far from Poitiers where many Acadian families originated.

Charles St. Etienne de LaTour, born in 1593, was from Champagne, which was 220 miles east, about 100 miles the other side of Paris. Not to mention that LaTour spent most of his life in Acadia from the time he was a teen, first arriving with his father in 1610, although he did travel back and forth. This casts doubt on the “rumor” that Philippe and Charles were childhood friends, given that Philippe, born sometime between 1600 and 1609, was younger than Charles, and Charles sailed for Nova Scotia in 1610 when Philippe was still a child.

Theuville-aux-Maillots, with a population of about 500 people, remains an agricultural community today. The village is mentioned in the 12th century, with aux Maillots added as a descriptor by 1336. Richard des Malloz was seigneur as early as 1210.

The village would have grown up around the castle and the St. Maclou Church. The chancel dates to the 1500s. The earliest residents after the church was built would have been buried here, probably including Robert Mius and his family.

This central tree, gone today but not in this 2019 image, was quite large, it’s trunk being supported at least a century earlier. The red brick home, at right, above, is seen below, at left, along with several others that probably date to the church and castle’s era.

The intersection, in front of the church, along the main street, would have been the center of the village. I can’t help but wonder how old this tree was, and if it stood when Robert Mius lived here.

Par Havang(nl) — Travail personnel, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84525701

The castle was built during the reign of King Louis XIV, between 1650 and 1715 by the d’Auber family, but only two towers remain today, just behind the church. There was clearly a manor house or castle prior to that time.

This Google Street View from 2010 shows the church, cemetery, castle turrets, and what’s left of the roof of the main building, along with the castle’s barns to the right.

Records from the mid-1700s spanning 30 years in this small village show that people practiced several trades and professions:

  • 29-34 people: farmers, day laborers, weavers
  • 9-17 people: linen weavers, carters, wheelwrights, spinners
  • 5-6 people: shepherds, carpenters, butchers, masons
  • 3-4 people: barn threshers, shoemakers, tailors
  • 2 people: surveyors, builders, coopers, thatchers, turners, and midwives
  • 1 person: merchant farmer, miller, haberdasher, baker, carpenter, gardener, spinning wheel maker, rose seller, priest’s clerk, cooper, blacksmith, clog maker, drying rack, horse dealer, carter, stonemason, and cook

I really hadn’t thought a lot about the wide variety of services needed for a village to be self-sufficient. There sure were a lot of weavers, but then again, everyone had to wear clothes – and winters were cold on the shores of the North Atlantic.

I do find it interesting that there’s a haberdasher, but no barber surgeon, who would be the person attending to “health care,” such as it was – in addition to cutting hair and beards. Perhaps tasks such as tooth-pulling, blood-letting, suturing wounds, setting bones and lancing boils were taken care of by the midwife, or maybe the villagers had to rely on traveling, itinerant “healers”, although clearly emergencies couldn’t wait.

Par Havang(nl) — Travail personnel, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84525701

Today, the castle’s dovecote remains. Only the wealthy were permitted to own doves through the 1700s.

The manor house or castle, which no longer exists, was apparently built in the same era as the castle at Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux. I’m unclear about copyright, so you can see a vintage postcard, here, as well as the church and castle turrets, here.

It’s interesting to note that red clay vases have been found that date from the Roman era, indicating Roman occupation and settlement some 2000 years ago, predating the Middle Ages when the Maillot family were the lords of the land.

By the 1700s, the families who farmed these fields had probably been farming them, or at least land nearby, for centuries. Peasants didn’t tend to move far. They were legally tied to the land and the seigneur for whom they worked. Generally, they worked within the manor’s radius of a town, maybe five miles in either direction. If granted permission, workers were occasionally allowed to leave for a nearby market or fair. Maybe once in a lifetime, if that, they took a pilgrimage, a privilege for which they had to both obtain permission and pay a fine to the seigneur, called a chevage. Robert Mius’s ancestral family had to have lived nearby.

The Mius match provided the information that his ancestor, Robert Mius, born before 1702 was married to Margueritte Patris. Because genealogists gotta do what genealogists gotta do, I attempted to track them back in time.

I found several trees on MyHeritage and in other locations, but without attached source information, such as church records.

  • Robert Mius, born before 1702 was reported as the son of Charles Mius, born in 1663 in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux, but I have been unable to verify that connection.

The Acadian Museum in Pubnico has the genealogy records that Robert’s descendants provided, which would presumably include his children’s names, but I don’t have that information either.

FamilySearch records confirm that at least some parish records exist for Theuville-aux-Maillots from about 1603 through the mid-1700s. Unfortunately, these have not been digitized or transcribed using their full-text search feature. Hopefully soon.

Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux records are available intermittently from 1541, but many years appear to be missing, and they are not transcribed or indexed either.

Given the rarity of the surname, and the fact that these locations are around five miles apart, there is surely a connection, even if we can’t connect all of the dots yet today.

  • Charles Mius was reportedly born on January 9, 1663 in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux, married Marie Raby, and died on June 27, 1706 in the same location.
  • His father, Charles Mius, was born on April 12, 1632 and died on October 25, 1711 in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux. He married Florimonde Roussel.

On this Geneanet tree, Charles and his wife, Florimonde Roussel show several children with exact birth and death dates, including the day of week. This certainly suggests these records come directly from the parish register.

  • Charles Mius born in 1632 was the son of Marin Mius who was born around 1600 in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux. In addition to Charles, Marin and his wife, Nicole, had daughter Suzanne Mius on Thursday, April 13, 1628.

There is nothing further listed, which I presume means one of three things:

  • The parish records ended
  • The parish records are incomplete
  • Marin was born, died or was baptized elsewhere. Unless either he or his wife died, it would be quite unusual to have only two children.

I reached out to Cousin Mark, who is much more adept at searching French records than I am. He reported that on Filae, there are several trees, but none produced by local Genealogy Societies with information extracted directly from the parish records, as is sometimes found elsewhere in France.

Short of literally sifting through all of the records written in archaic French script, one by one, there’s no way to make that connection yet today.

Let’s take a walk down the road to neighboring Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux.

Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux

Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux is an Atlantic village of about the same size as Theuville-aux-Maillots. Its sixteenth-century fortified castle, Chateau de Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux, is associated with the Toustain family. Also from the 16th century, a way-marker stone cross is located on the main road where it intersects with the road that leads directly to the Saint-Martin Church, behind which stands the castle.

This heavily fortified and walled castle may date from earlier, as it is reported to have been damaged during the Hundred Years’ War, which took place from 1337 to 1453 between France and Britain.

The castle’s walls and surrounding buildings, which date from the same era, still stand all along Rue du Chateau from Rte d’Auberville, past the castle, around the church, and halfway down Rte du Val, shown above. You can see where the wall turns away from the road, along with the building across the road that appears to be constructed of the same materials, and the church in the distance.

Once cart paths, these are all narrow, mostly-paved rural roads today, but with no center line.

Quaint is an understatement, although at one time, the castle was the center of commerce and justice for the fiefdom. Every resident worked for the manorial or seigneural family, one way or another.

The area is still heavily agricultural, with some forest. The castle is privately owned today.

The “main road,” Le Grand Rue, slightly wider but still with no center line, intersects with the cross that directs visitors to the church and castle. A medieval stone road sign in a neighborhood where most of the homes harken back to the days of peasants and manor houses.

Did our Mius ancestor sit here to rest on his journey, waving and calling “Bonjour!” as local farmers rode by with oxen pulling their wagons or carts?

Following the road from the cross leads directly, and I do mean directly, to the door of the church.

Approaching along the wall from Rte du Val, we see the north side of the cemetery, where Marin Mius and many other Mius family members were assuredly buried.

Viewing the churchyard from the other side, just outside the castle gate, reveals the rest of the cemetery.

Every inch of the graveyard is packed, and the ossuary at the rear indicates that the graves have since been reused.

Of course, this church would originally have been built by the manorial family, and their entrance would have been through the small gate, but this view is what the Mius family would have seen as they approached the castle beside the church.

Is this perhaps where they worked, or did they approach with trepidation because they were here seeking, or receiving, justice?

Did they perchance stop in the church to visit their ancestors and pray first?

Beyond the gate on Rue du Chateau, today you can easily see the castle over what’s left of the wall.

Did the Mius men or their ancestors help build this castle?

Then, as now, it probably required many people to maintain the building and grounds.

Looking slightly to the right, the barns and outbuildings still remain.

Was it here that the Mius men labored?

Moving slightly away from the main chateau entrance, we see buildings that were built into the original castle wall.

The large building in the field to the right is the back side, or maybe front side, of what looked to be a barn beside the castle.

It’s difficult to tell if this was a barn originally, and is now a home, perhaps the caretakers of the castle. Based on the structure of the building, it’s from the same time period as the rest of the castle’s outbuildings.

You can see the edge of the castle at left.

Continuing down Rue du Chateau, this building looks like it had windows at one point. I’ve seen some buildings with a single, lower arch that was the original oven where the baking for the chateau was done, but this building and the next have several evenly spaced higher arches that look to have been filled in.

I so wish we had a drawing of the original chateau and estate.

Marin Muis and other Mius family members would have approached the church from this perspective if they arrived from along Rue du Chateau instead of along the Rte de Val or the road leading from the cross.

I wonder if the castle was a visual representation of safety and security to the family, or if the sight evoked a sense of dread.

Did they think fondly of the seigneurial family, or were they viewed fearfully. Were they even-keeled and fair, or something else?

How were the peasants treated?

We don’t know how far away from the village the peasants who farmed the fields lived. Using the list of trades from Theuville-aux-Maillots, we know that the majority of residents were farmers or laborers of some sort.

I’m going to assume here that the land within the seigneury included the land reaching all the way to the coast. It’s not far, and it wouldn’t seem logical for that area to be included in a different manor.

However, it’s also unclear how close to the coast people would have lived, and whether they attempted to farm that land. Not only is the weather harsh, but if the area were to be invaded by England, it would be from the coast, with soldiers approaching through the valleys between the cliffs or up the rivers.

Either way, lookouts and fortifications would have been essential.

Looking at this aerial view, you can see that none of the roads or farms today extend to the coast, which in most places here are cliffs with sheer, vertical drops of about 200 feet. The edges are subject to collapse, and it wouldn’t take long for the first people living there to learn to keep livestock and people away from the precipice.

Archaeological surveys ahead of local infrastructure projects have documented Gallo-Roman remains, suggesting that “smaller” villas or farmsteads (aedificia) were present along the cliffs at Veullettes-sur-Mer, about 2.5 miles away.

The Norman coast was fortified by the Romans, with a fort at the mouth of the Durdent River at Veulettes-sur-Mer. This coastal area was part of a highly developed Gallo-Roman network of roads, with many smaller, secondary paths called vicinal roads that connected smaller locations like these to the main Roman roads.

Romans inhabited this area from about 2000 years ago, when Julius Caesar conquered Gaul, to about 300-400 CE, when Roman authority began to wane, and power passed to the Franks. However, the established Roman populations were not replaced and remained in their villages. The Franks led politically, but assimilated into the community and adopted much of the Roman culture, including Catholicism and Latin. Life continued, and the existing fabric of society was not destroyed when the Franks assumed power. Four hundred years later, that wasn’t the case when Viking raids devastated the region.

This coastline was inhabited much earlier, too. Neolithic sites have been discovered in caves along the cliffs, dating to around 7000 years ago.

The Cliffs Along the Coast

We’re going to take a drive to two destinations.

First, there’s a beautiful view from the end of the path indicated by the blue arrow on the map above, and along the blue road on the map above that, called Impasse des Gabions.

But there’s even something better – a surprise!!

As you turn down this tiny road, note that Earl Mius, crop grower, lives at this intersection.

A large agricultural farmer today, there’s a home on this property, located on the curve, that shares the type of Medieval construction in the houses and walled areas found in the church, castle and associated buildings, located just 3/4th of a mile away.

How long has this farm been in the Mius family?

How old are these buildings? They have obviously been here for hundreds of years – probably the closest farm to the actual coastline.

Is there any possibility that this is the original Mius land, or at least some of the land the Mius family farmed in Medieval times? And could this possibly be where Philippe’s ancestors were from too?

Have we accidentally found our way home?

We literally turn right after we pass this house, angling back towards the curve as we descend to the sea. For all the world, it looks like this is Earl’s farm. Mius land.

The intersection of this road with Rte du Val carries the warning “Descente a la Mer”, or descent to the sea.

This tiny road threads its way between the cliffs where sheep graze.

At the end of the road, we’re treated to a stunning view of the sea and distant horizon framed by the hillsides. You can see that water has been carving its way through those cliffs from time immemorial.

This aerial close-up shows the jagged cliff edges and the stone and pebble beaches directly below.

This satellite image shows the walking path from the church to the Mius farm beside the turn towards the sea, and the end of the road beside those stunning cliffs.

This literally makes me cry. How is it even possible to be this lucky?

Philippe, are you helping?

I need a minute…

Walk Along the Cliffs

We can’t walk along the top of the cliffs here, but just a mile away, as the seagul flies, we can.

There’s a “road”, of sorts, along the clifftop that I’m positive the Google vehicle was not supposed to travel. This vista provides us with a magical view of what the residents and shepherds would have seen when the Mius ancestors lived along this shoreline.

Our adventure begins with another descent to the sea via a slightly wider but still-winding road.

At the bottom of the road, looking to the right, in the distance, we can see the cliffs where we just came from – about a mile away.

Just stunningly beautiful, and knowing that we are viewing Mius land in the distance makes this ever so much more meaningful.

On the way, about half a mile above the beach, we passed the entrance to a cave system where Neolithic human activity has been documented.

Looking left, those cliffs in the distance are the ones we’re going to drive on top of, so let’s get started.

This tiny little street climbs pretty much straight up. Notice the difference in the elevation of the house from one end to the other.

We reached an overlook and turn in the road before continuing on the path beside the bench. What, you can’t see the path? It’s there, but you have to know where to look.

Did the Google car really drive here? Let’s go around the bench and see.

This is the road across the cliffs. Seriously, I’m not kidding. This is much more authentic to the Mius family experience than today’s roads.

Turned around, looking back at the parking area beside the beach below. The cliffs between the village and the Mius land are visible just across the way. Note the landslides near those jagged edges!

To give you some perspective, we’re nowhere near the top.

The fields on the other side of the fence, at left, explain the reason for this “road.”

There are muddy places and a couple of “wide spots”, but most of this path along the top of the cliffs looks just like this. I’m sure the fence is to keep livestock in and away from the cliffs, not people out. I would not want to be here in a storm.

The right side, above the cliffs, is overgrown with brambles and scrub the entire distance, often obscuring both the beauty and the danger of the view.

Then, the descent down the other side, begins, and cliffs on the other side of the next valley come into view.

The descent winds through the forest, in some places so dark that I could literally see nothing but blackness. If it wasn’t already clear before, this “drive” across the clifftops had to have been filmed by someone walking with the Google camera, which you could see in the shadows from time to time. It could not have been driven. Once again, so incredibly lucky to be able to “see” this view that our ancestors very probably saw too.

The descent ended here with this tiny path emerging from the bushes. We’re back from visiting the Roman defenses 2000 years ago, the peasants of the 1600s, and the Mius fields of today.

It’s here, along these stark limestone cliffs of Normandy, that our Mius family is found in Medieval times, and yet today.

It feels like we’ve come a long way, but we really haven’t. From end to end, through Saint Martin aux Bruneaux, the entire trip would only have taken the Mius family members an hour and a half to walk about 3.6 miles.

You can view incredibly stunning photos of the church, including the interior, cemetery, castle, soaring chalky white cliffs and stone beaches, here. Be still my heart!

If this is your family, I really, really encourage you to use Google maps and “drive” along the coastal roads near this village. Most buildings have been remodeled, but their ancient bones still show, and the original structures date from when Marin, Charles, Charles and Robert would have lived there. The countryside probably remains much the same, and the cliffs are forever, never changing.

Of course, we don’t know if our ancestor lived exactly here, but Philippe Mius was recorded, twice, as being from Normandy. Our DNA matches, our Mius cousins got here somehow, and it’s not exactly on the way to anyplace.

Surname Adoption in Normandy

Surnames in Normandy began to be adopted in the 11th and 12th centuries by the nobility and elites. Many were preceded by “de” meaning “of”, so Philippe of <place name>.

Given what we know about the original Philippe Mius d’Entremont and his descendants’ DNA matches, we’ve confirmed that Mius is his actual surname, and d’Entremont is a nom de terre, meaning a place name or something else.

General French surname adoption for most of the population began in the 13th century and was widespread in Normandy in the 14th century. People selected their own surname which often reflected a craft, occupation or even a nickname. Small rural, isolated, or seafarer communities sometimes adopted fixed names later, and that could have included these coastal areas in upper Normandy where the Mius family was found from about 1600 through the mid-1700s.

If they adopted the Mius surname in either the 1200s or 1300s, they were passing it down until Phippe Mius was born around 1600, 300 or 400 years and maybe a dozen generations later, the same time that the Mius men were living along this coastline.

In 1539, King Francis I issued orders requiring priests to record a surname in baptismal registers, so we know the Mius name was adopted either by or at that point.

Mius is believed to be a local Norman or Seine-Maritime regional variant of the word mieux meaning better, or superior. Alternatively, it has also been suggested that it could be an old Breton word for muis, meaning mouse.

Where Are We?

We’ve proven several things:

  • Mius is the genetic surname of Philippe Mius d’Entremont.
  • The French Mius tester’s descendants, tracked back to about 1702, lived in Normandy too early to be a descendant of Philippe Mius d’Entremont whose descendants were exiled to France around 1760 during the Explusion.
  • D’Entremont is not found in the early records of this Norman Mius family or in this part of France.
  • Y-DNA of Philippe’s descendants unquestionably matches with the Mius family found around 1700 in Theuville-aux-Maillots, with the same surname appearing earlier just 5 miles away in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux.
  • Families with this surname are still found in both communities, today.

Remaining questions include:

  • Where did d’Entremont come from? Did Philippe or his ancestors adopt that name in France, or did he adopt that additional name when he was awarded the Barony of Pobomcoup?
  • Why did he select d’Entremont?
  • Where in Normandy was Philippe Mius born between 1600 and 1609?
  • Where was he married to Madeleine Helie about 1649, based on the birth year of their first known child? It’s possible, and I’d suggest probable, that Philippe was married more than once if his first child was born about 1650. He was between 40 and 50 by then.
  • Who were his parents?
  • Was Philippe of minor nobility or of the upper bourgeois class, meaning merchants, professionals and townspeople who were well-to-do and respected, but lacked land privileges?
  • Given that Philippe was appointed the King’s Attorney in 1670, he clearly knew how to read and write well, and was trusted by the King.
  • How was Philippe known to the king? Did the king appoint him, or did someone else? If so, who, and why?
  • Where did Philippe meet and how was he acquainted with Charles St. Etienne de LaTour whose family was from Champagne, and why did LaTour select him as his Lieutenant Governor?
  • Where did Philippe Mius’s family come from before Normandy?

Big Y-700 DNA Results

I’m incredibly grateful for the Mius d’Entremont gentleman who agreed to upgrade his Y-DNA results to the Big Y-700 test. Thank you immensely!

Those results, and matches to other men who descend through all males from Philippe Mius d’Entremont, or other men from that genetic lineage by different surnames, are incredibly important

There are two very important aspects of these results.

  1. Matching, at any level, to other men.
  2. Information we can learn about Philippe and his lineage from the results of the Big Y-700 test.

The Mius d’Entremont DNA Project groups testers who descend from Philippe together.

Several Meuse/Mius/d’Entremont men who carry the same surname by various spellings match as expected, but unfortunately, most have only taken the introductory 12-marker test.

Historically, men could order tests that tested a specific number of STR (Short Tandem Repeat) markers:

  • 12
  • 25
  • 37
  • 67
  • 111

Today, only the 37 and 111 marker tests are available, and all testers can upgrade to higher-level tests if there’s enough DNA left from their original swabs. Of course, they can always swab again for the upgrade, but sometimes early testers have passed away or are unreachable.

Several years ago, FamilyTreeDNA introduced a much more sophisticated test called the Big Y-700 that tests all of those locations plus scans roughly 22 million locations of the Y chromosome for mutations called SNPs that define branches in the Y-DNA phylogenetic tree. Not only does this test detect mutations that define known branches, but it scans the Y chromosome for novel or new mutations that were previously unknown and uniquely define family lines. These types of mutations are estimated to occur roughly every 80 years or so, but can vary substantially.

All higher-level tests include the lower-level tests.

A man who descends from Jean-Baptiste Mius, born around 1800, probably in Tusket, Nova Scotia, has taken the Big Y-700 test, which provides significantly more information than the earlier STR tests. I’m extremely grateful to him for upgrading.

His haplogroup, E-Y260948, is our key to understanding the Mius family past. This haplogroup originated in a man born about 2700 years ago.

To be very clear, if additional Mius/Meuse/d’Entrement men would upgrade to the Big Y-700 test, we would assuredly receive a much more refined, granular, and closer haplogroup, probably originating in the sons of Philippe Mius d’Entremont. If you’re a Mius male, please consider upgrading!

Our Mius male has mutations known as private variants just waiting for another man with those mutations to take the Big Y-700 test and match. When they match, a new haplogroup is named and added to the tree. If all Mius men tested, we would probably be able to assign at least high-level lineages by haplogroup.

Testers receive lots of information on their dashboard, including matches to other testers at each level, plus more than a dozen different reports through Discover.

Every Y-DNA tester receives Discover as one of the options on their dashboard. Clicking on Discover opens another menu with lots of options – each one revealing something new about your DNA results. Thank of these as chapters in your book.

Discover can only report on the level of data provided with the test taken. Big Y-700 testers receive MUCH more information than men who take only the 12-111 marker tests.

Let’s review some of the most enlightening information for our Mius line!

Using the Discover Timetree to review haplogroup E-Y260948, we discover that there are two men who have a descendant haplogroup from our Mius haplogroup.

Haplogroup E-FTE73963 split from E-Y260948 sometime between 2700 years ago when our Mius haplogroup was born, and about 1200 CE when the descendant haplogroup E-FTE73963 originated. Today, the ancestors of the two men who have tested and belong to the descendant haplogroup originated in Macedonia.

This means that our Mius ancestor, and the two men with Macedonian ancestors shared an ancestor someplace around 2700 years ago.

This is getting very interesting.

Macedonia is a Balkan country and borders Greece, Bulgaria, Serbia, Albania and Kosovo.

The Discover Migration Map shows the path out of Africa for haplogroup E-V13, a parent haplogroup of our Mius haplogroup, E-Y260948. Those men migrated through Turkey, probably crossing from Asia to Europe at Istanbul, then moving across the Balkans. This map shows the general migration path for haplogroup E-V13. The circle indicates where E-V13 was located about 5200 years ago when that mutation first emerged.

The map reflects the genetically constructed haplotree which is informed by EKA (earliest known ancestor) locations of testers, Ancient Connections of sufficient quality, along with the least cost migration path from point to point. “Least cost” means that migrating people would select a protected valley with a water source over crossing dangerous high mountains.

The little brown trowels mark the locations of Ancient Connections which are archaeological excavations of burials. We’ll get to those in a minute.

Another tool, Globetrekker™, provides more granular pathways for ancestors more recently than E-V13 but prior to migration to the Americas.

The Mius lineage split 10 times between when E-V13 emerged in the Balkans, 5200 years ago, and 2700 years ago when E-Y260948 is found in or near the southern border of Germany.

But the Mius line was from France – you might ask what are they doing in Germany. Good question. The software can only work with the information it has.

Remember that today there are only three men who have taken the Big Y-700 test and carry the mutation for E-Y260948, and two of them are in a downstream haplogroup found in Macedonia. The third, our Mius family representative, shows his earliest known Ancestor in Canada – so the only locations that Globetrekker™ has to work with for E-Y260948 with are the locations of its parent haplogroup E-Y3183, and Macedonia. France doesn’t even enter into the picture, although it clearly should. If multiple Mius men took the Big Y-700 test and entered France as their EKA location, that would modify the location of E-Y260948 in Globetrekker™. Not to mention that we would likely receive a closer Mius-specific haplogroup.

According to Globetrekker™, our Mius ancestor, two haplogroups earlier, crossed over the mountainous border between Italy, Austria and Germany sometime around 3500 years ago. As you can see, those three haplogroups are closely clustered in that region.

This is an important intersection, because as we will see, not everyone went in the same direction. Some clearly went on to France, some to eastern Europe, some to Macedonia, and some turned left and found themselves in Italy.

Between 2700 years ago, maybe in southern Germany, and 425 years ago in Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux, the Mius family line made their way from the border region between Italy, Austria, and Germany to the cliffs of Normandy.

Is there anything in Discover’s Ancient Connections that might be enlightening?

Ancient Connections

Ancient Connections, which displays the results of burials from archaeological excavations, is one of my favorite features of Discover. I wrote about using Ancient Connections for genealogy in the article, Ancient Connections: Where Archaeology Meets Your Ancestors.

We may not know where our ancestors were at a specific point in time, but we absolutely know when and where these people died and were buried.

There’s always an untold story just waiting for us – before surnames were adopted and written records became available. The record we are reading now is genetic.

With the free version of Discover or if you have not taken the Big-Y test, you can view about 10 Ancient Connections for the haplogroup you enter.

When clicking through from Big Y-700 results to Discover, you’ll see the closest 30 or so Ancient Connection matches, with the closest being shown first, plus the most ancient match in the database shown last

I encourage everyone to read each of the academic papers listed under “Reference” for each Ancient Connections sample to learn more about the culture and grave goods of each excavation.

As you receive closer matches, your more distant matches roll off your Ancient Connections match list.

I created a table few weeks ago, but several new matches have since been added, while an equal number of more distant matches fell off the end. Note that the samples styled as I###### are from the massive Ikbar paper that includes just under 16,000 ancient genomes from West Eurasia, Europe, and the Middle East, and stands to double the number of Ancient Connections. FamilyTreeDNA is processing this information as rapidly as possible. Some of the information about the burials is still embargoed by the authors.

One of the reasons I maintain a table is so that I don’t lose track of the information as new samples are added.

Location Their Haplogroup Age/Culture Shared Haplogroup Haplogroup Age/ Birth Location
Rathewitz, Burgenlandkreis, Saxony-Anhalt, Germany E-A7136 500 CE – Thurnigan culture E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I465561 (no further information yet) E-Y3183 E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Altheim 157, Altheim, Biberach, Baden-Württemberg, Germany E-BY152516 400-800 CE, Medieval German culture E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Rákóczifalva–Bagi, Szolnok, Hungary E-BY152516 650 CE – Avar culture E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Hajdúnánás, Hajdú-Bihar County, Hungary E-A7136 725 CE – Avar E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Csokorgasse 79. Wien-Csokorgasse, Vienna, Austria E-BY5293 600-900 CE Avar E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Rákóczifalva–Bagi, Szolnok, Hungary E-BY40534 800 CE – Avar E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I37963 (no further information yet) E-Y3183 c 850 CE E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I37965 (no further information yet) E-Y3183 c 850 CE E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I38363 (no further information yet) E-Y3183 c 1000 CE E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Śródka, Poznań, Greater Poland, Poland E-Y3183 1100 CE – Slavic E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Tjærby, Randers, Denmark E-Y3183 1200 CE – Medieval Danish E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Korolówka, Ternopil Oblast, Ukraine E-A7136 1250 CE – Old Ruthenian culture E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
Coimbra 23241, Castelo de Montemor o Velho, Coimbra, Portugal E-Y3183 1550 CE – Historical Portuguese E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I41604 (no further information yet) E-BY116895 1750 CE E-Y3183 3450 years ago. Probably in Germany
I43570 (no further information yet) E-Z16659 c150 CE E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Gerulata 21935, Gerulata, Bratislava, Slovakia E-BY5499 230 CE – Roman Age Slovakian E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
I42272 (no further information yet) E-Z16659 c 300 CD E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
I42273 (no further information yet) E-Z16659 c 300 CD E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Masłomęcz, Polesia, Poland E-Z16659 300 CE – Wielbark Culture E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Béndekpuszta, Hács, Hungary E-FT109005 475 CE – Gothic E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Crypta Balbi, Rome, Italy E-Z38770 500 CE – Roman E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Kettőshatár I, Kiskundorozsma, Hungary (3 samples) E-B Y193951 675 CE – Middle Avar E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Wien-Csokorgasse, Vienna, Austria E-L241 750 CE – Avar E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Rákóczifalva–Bagi, Szolnok, Hungary E-MF657677 750 CE – Avar E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Székkutas 70, Kápolnadűlő, Székkutas, Hungary E-BY5617 775 CE – Late Avar E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Líbivá, Břeclav district, Southern Moravian region, Czech Republic E-MF657677 725 CE – Medieval Moravian E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Cifer-Pac, Trnava, Slovakia (2 samples) E-BY199965 875 CE – Slav Avars E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Końskie, Świętokrzyskie voivodship, Poland 1100 CE – Slavic E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria
Groenmarkt-2, Sint-Truiden, Limburg, Belgium (Flanders) 1325 CE – Flemish cultural group – died from Black Death E-Z16659 3500 years ago, Probably in Austria

To help organize this information meaningfully and understand what these samples and haplogroups mean to our research, I created a descendancy spreadsheet using the Ancestral Path and Ancient Connections.

The Ancestral Path in Discover shows the genetic path from the tester’s haplogroup directly up the tree.

Many of the Ancient Connections belong to branches off of our upstream haplogroups, not terminating with those haplogroups themselves. That’s fine, but it’s an important distinction because those individuals found on branches cannot be our ancestors.

Haplogroup E-Y260948, our Mius haplogroup, formed about 700 BCE, or about 2700 years ago and the next upstream haplogroup, E-BY174450 was formed about 3300 years ago.

Before that, E-Y3183 was formed about 3450 years ago, and so forth.

I started with Philippe Mius at the bottom of the spreadsheet, and built my way “up”, meaning back in time. The apricot column is the trunk of the tree, from which branches can form.

The first thing I wanted to know was whether our Mius line could potentially be descended from any of these burials. I wrote about this more broadly in the article, Ancient Connections: Where Archaeology Meets Your Ancestors.

There are always four things to consider:

  1. When the haplogroups were formed
  2. When the people lived, as compared to haplogroup ages. If the burial lived 200 years ago, but my ancestor lived 300 years ago, my ancestor is clearly not descended from the burial.
  3. Location
  4. History

In our spreadsheet, the branched lines with their haplogroups are in blue, so they are our haplo-cousins, and our Mius line cannot descend from them. We can only potentially descend from someone whose haplogroup is found in the apricot trunk column.

The samples in the apricot column have the same haplogroup as our Mius ancestor. However, a new mutation, E-BY174450 formed in the Mius line, so unless these men who are members of E-Y3183, lived BEFORE E-BY174450 was formed about 3300 years ago, then we cannot be directly descended from them either. None of these burials date between 3432 years ago when E-Y3183 was formed, and 3300 years ago when E-BY174450 was formed, so we cannot descend from any of these burials

However, and his is a BIG HOWEVER, that does not mean that all is lost, because the cumulative information in these ancient burials carries a story, especially when viewed together.

History is our friend.

History

Let’s look at the history of the region and the burials.

Rome conquered Gaul, which was comprised mostly of Celtic tribes at that time, about 2000 years ago, establishing their capital at Rouen in what is now France. The Romans killed one third of the population and enslaved another third, leaving only about one third of the families in their homes and not displaced. The enslaved people served individual Roman soldiers and worked on the Roman villas and estates, providing essential services, sometimes alongside free peasants and tenants. Roman villas and fortifications were found in upper Normandy, along the coast, where trade once occurred with England.

Late in the fourth century, Roman power waned. In 486, the Franks consolidated power after battling throughout what would become Normandy with Saxons and Germanic tribes. The Franks adopted Roman customs and controlled the land until the Vikings invaded in the 9th century. The Vikings also converted to Christianity, adopting the Frankish language, laws, and many customs, and became Normans.

In 1066, William the Conqueror, Duke of Normandy, invaded England, launching a period of Norman rule that began when William was crowned King of England. English monarchs ruled both England and Normandy until 1204, when Normandy was recaptured from English rule. Normandy was controlled once again by France until the Hundred Years War when hostilities erupted between England and France.

You can see from this history that France, and Normandy in particular, became quite the melting pot.

Viewing the Ancient Connections of the Mius line, in combination with haplogroup E-Y260948, which is of African origin, it becomes clear that our Mius ancestors weren’t Vikings, very probably weren’t Celts, probably not Angles, Saxons, or Danes either.

That leaves the Franks and the Romans.

Working backwards in time by haplogroups:

  • E-BY4877, born about 4400 years ago has two testers from Italy,
  • Moving further back in time to about 5200 years ago with E-V13, we find testers and burials in Italy, Greece, Turkey, Serbia, Croatia, along with the Slavic and eastern European countries, as well as Germany, Austria, and Ukraine.
  • By 9500 years ago, we have a present-day tester from Egypt, with ancient burials in the same locations as before, but by 13,000 years ago, with haplogroup E-Z1919, we begin to see Ancient Connections in Jordan and Sudan.

The further back in time, the fewer burials that are contemporaneous. Most are much more recent.

The majority of the burials the Mius line is related to are Avar, although we do see some identified as Roman, Goths who raided Roman territory, the Weilbark culture associated with the Goths, Slavs who intermixed with the Avars, the Thuringians who were Slavs and overtaken by the Franks, and the Old Ruthenian culture which was Slavic and Baltic.

Based on the history of our haplogroup, and the history of the settlement of the northern-most portion of Normandy, it looks like our ancestor probably either arrived with the Romans who conquered the Gauls, or with the Franks who conquered the Avars and Slavs and took control of future-Normandy from the Romans.

There seem to be four potential ways our ancestors arrived in Normandy. The first two seem more likely than the bottom two:

  1. As Avar slaves to the Franks who displaced the Romans
  2. As a Roman soldier
  3. As conquered Gaulic slaves to the Romans, which is unlikely given that the Gauls were a Celtic tribe
  4. As slaves to the Romans, brought with them from Italy. While the Romans did travel with slaves, some of whom were conscripted into battle, in the case of the Gauls, they simply enslaved them instread of bringing their slaves from Rome.

There seems to be a lot of Avar history in our Ancient Connections, so let’s pull on that thread for a minute.

Avars

Wikipedia tells me that there are two groups of Avars. One group is a mountainous ethnic group that currently resides in the North Caucasus, between the Black and Caspian seas.

That doesn’t seem to fit, so let’s look at the other Avar group.

The historic Pannonian Avars are defined as an alliance of several groups of Eurasian nomads of various origins, spanning the Pannonian Basin and parts of Central and Eastern Europe. Yep, that’s the right group.

The Avars are first found on the Pontic-Caspian Steppe as a group of people who were trying to escape the rule of the Göktürks and greatly influenced the Slavic migrations to the Balkans.

By Wario2 – Own workOmeljan Pritsak The Slavs and the Avars. The victorious refugees established themselves in the Northern Caucasus, near the Byzantine holdings in the Crimea. In 558, through the good services of the Alan ruler, they established relations with the Byzantines and soon were granted the status of foederati on Byzantine territory in Scythia Minor, that is, Dobrudja, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=124091844

The Avars were a nomadic Central Asian Turkic Steppe tribe of warrior horsemen who controlled the Danube and Carpathian Basin, primarily in modern-day Bavaria, Hungary and Austria.

In both the maps above and below, please note the proximity of the regions where our haplogroups were found, near the border of Italy, Austria and Germany.

By Ramsey Muir – Muir’s Historical Atlas–Mediaeval and Modern ( London, 1911), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=17019845

The Franks appeared in Central Europe during the 3rd to 5th centuries. They joined ranks with the Romans to defeat Atilla the Hun in 451, then settled in Normandy after the Romans had abdicated power in 486. The Franks then conquered the Avars between 788 and 803 CE. The Avars converted to Christianity and were assimilated into the Frankish kingdom as vassals, generally in the Southeast part of France where the Avars lived when it was their territory.

The Romans

It’s worth considering that our ancestor may have arrived with the Romans, either as a soldier or as a slave, although arriving as a slave is probably less likely. Romans simply enslaved the Gauls, who had not assimilated the Avars or Slavs, as they had not yet moved that far east.

A more likely possibility is that our ancestor was a Roman soldier. In the early history of the journey of the Slavs, and with them some branches of haplogroup E, across Asia, Eurasia, and Europe, it’s clear that some Avars and Slavs settled in Italy. At that time, Rome was the largest urban center of the ancient world and controlled territory on three continents spanning the Mediterranean shores – including Italy and Istanbul, which was then Constantinople. Rome traded extensively with North Africa, so finding haplogroup E is not uncommon among Italians.

There is one burial found in a crypt in the center of ancient Rome, dating from 500 CE, which is after Rome conquered Gaul. This burial could have been from a descendant someone brought back to Rome from what would eventually be Normandy. Or it could have been a descendant of a man who turned left and went to Italy when his cousins turned right and continued on into Europe.

Hopefully future burials and testers will clarify the migration path of our Mius ancestors.

Whether Roman or Avar, it appears that our ancestors were probably in bondage one way or another in Medieval France, if not before.

Regardless of how they arrived, they stayed. In Medieval France, control of peasants was baked into the land, and when we find the Mius men in 1702 in Theuviille-aux-Maillots, they were not bourgeois or lesser nobility.

The Roman and Frankish system of slavery gradually transitioned into serfdom, then into feudal estates. The serf was literally owned with the land and could do nothing, including marry, without their owner’s permission. They were sold with the land.

Serfdom was abolished in 1315, but feudal society continued.

In the somewhat less restrictive feudal society, choices and movements were still controlled by the landowner, but not to the same degree. Labor was exchanged for protection. The seigneur of the manor still controlled the peasants and workers who lived on their land, dispensed justice, and ruled over their mini-kingdom, small though it may have been.

The Avar history is tightly interwoven with Eastern European peoples, but it is impossible without additional information to sort this out further. As more burials are discovered, and more men test, we’ll be able to refine our knowledge.

The Mius Line

Our Philippe Mius unquestionably arrived in Acadia from France, and two contemporaneous sources tell us that he was from Normandy. This information combined with Y-DNA test results and Norman history tells us a lot about how and when his ancestor likely arrived in France. It also eliminates several possibilities.

  • He’s not Jewish.
  • He’s not Anglo or Saxon.
  • He’s not Viking.

He’s most likely:

  1. A Roman soldier, or a slave brought with a Roman soldier from Italy
  2. Frankish via the conquered Avars

A lesser possibility is that he was a Roman slave taken in Gaul, but that’s significantly less likely because the Gauls were Celtic, not Slavic. 

Thanks to our Big Y-700 tester and the anonymous French Mius man who tested all those years ago, we know that Philippe Mius and the men who lived in Theuville-aux-Maillots and Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux on the Norman coast shared ancestors sometime since the adoption of surnames, which probably occurred in the 1300s or 1400s, during the time of feudalism.

The Norman tester’s ancestors didn’t move far, only from field to field, about 5 miles in hundreds of years – and their descendants continue to farm the same fields just above the cliffs.

Philippe Mius boarded a ship and sailed for Acadia in 1651. It would take another 360+ years to reunite the two lines of the Mius family, thanks to Y-DNA testing.

In the greatest of ironies, in far distant Acadia, in 1653, Philippe Mius d’Entremont became a seigneur himself, owning and controlling the land of the people who farmed and lived in and around Pobomcoup, today’s Pubnico. In 1671, the census shows us that there was no one living there except his wife and children, but by the mid-1750s, when the Acadians were expelled by the English, his seigneury had expanded to include about 300 people, most of whom were his descendants.

Beautiful Normandy

Cousin Mark did a deep dive at Filae for us, slogging through myriad unsourced trees and other information, first focused on Theuville-aux-Maillots and Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux. He then expanded to other regions along the Norman coast, then expanded again to anything within 200 km. After slogging through more than 660 trees looking for actual sources, he was able to confirm that there were Mius families along the Norman coast in the Seine-Maritime department in the early and later 1700s. One 1745 burial was from as far north as Steenwerck in French Flanders.

He was not able to reassemble families, and of course, we don’t know if all of those people were part of the same Mius family. Some unsourced trees did reach back into the mid-1600s.

Mark mentioned that Filae includes very few original records from the 1600s, depending instead on local genealogical societies to transcribe parish records and post them in large, reassembled trees. Unfortunately, that has not happened with the Norman records we need, but hope springs eternal.

Thanks to Philippe Mius’s descendants’ Y-DNA matches, we know that our Mius family lived in Theuville-aux-Maillots in the early 1700s and very probably neighboring Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux in the early 1600s. We also know that moving from place to place was difficult, if not impossible, and that our shared ancestor lived sometime after surnames were adopted in Normandy. This narrows that timeframe to 1300-1400 CE, 200 or 300 years prior to the early 1600s when Philippe was born.

We also know that the Mius family still resides just above the Norman coastline, farming those ancient fields, within easy walking distance of Saint-Martin-aux-Buneaux.

There’s no question that we belong here, in beautiful Normandy!

As fate would have it, Mark traveled in that region a few years ago and was kind enough to share his stunning photos of the cliffs along the Norman coast. I’d like to thank Mark for his research and photos.

Please let these photos transport you back in time as you think about the lives of our ancestors as they established their homes here.

Courtesy of Cousin Mark

Saint-Valery, Varengeville-sur-Mer

Courtesy of Cousin Mark

Veules-les-Roses

Courtesy of Cousin Mark

Varengeville sur-Mer

Courtesy of Cousin Mark

Pourville sur-Mer

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Tribute Reels from MyHeritage

Mother’s Day was Sunday, and my family was close in heart, but not actually here that day. After I had a nice visit with them, I settled in for a quiet day of writing and quilting. The evening before, I had published, Mom’s Quilt, an article honoring my mother.

Of course, I checked my email and social media from time to time during the day, so imagine my surprise when I saw a video of my mother, MY MOTHER, in someone else’s social media feed on Mother’s Day.

Huh???

Wait!

What?

There’s no mistaking her.

You know there’s a great backstory, right?!.

RootsTech 2026

Every year I’m always front row, center at Gilad Japhet’s keynote session at Rootstech – except when RootsTech schedules our two sessions at the same time. That’s exactly what happened in 2026.

I love to hear first-hand what’s being announced and coming next from MyHeritage. Gilad founded MyHeritage in 2003 as a small startup focused on genealogy research. MyHeritage grew by leaps and bounds, and in 2016 they added DNA testing as a resource. The rest, as they say, is history.

I missed his keynote this year, so imagine my surprise when my friend, Peggy, walked up to me a little later and said, “Oh my gosh, Roberta, I was crying in the session…your mother.”

I paused for a moment, because I had not mentioned my mother in my presentation earlier – which is what I assumed she must be talking about.

I must have looked very confused because Peggy continued, “Half the room was in tears.”

“What?”

“In Gilad’s presentation – you and your mother.”

Suddenly, everything fell into place and made sense. I had given Gilad permission to include pilot videos at RootsTech of something he had been working on if he thought it was appropriate, and if MyHeritage decided to go forward with the project.

Something else suddenly made sense, too. The look of disappointment when I was asked by a MyHeritage team member if I was going to be in Gilad’s session, and I explained that my session had been moved to a slot at the same exact time. “That’s too bad – we saved you a seat right up front.” At the time, I thought, “Well, that’s very nice,” but later, I understood.

Obviously, Gilad had made the decision to show the videos – but which version? There were two – equally as compelling in different ways.

The Backstory

A few weeks earlier, I had received an email from Gilad, asking what I thought about a potential new feature. He included a “demo” version – not even an alpha version because MyHeritage was only considering the possibility of implementing something like this for their customers.

Gilad asked for feedback. Did I like it? How did I think other people would feel if something like this was built for their own family?

Let’s just say that I was not at all prepared for what I saw when I clicked on the attachment. He should have given me a “do not watch in the presence of other people” warning.

I sobbed. I ugly cried so hard I got the hiccups.

My poor husband asked what was wrong.

“Who died?”

Imagine his shock when I slobbered out, “My mother.”

He clearly knew that my mother had died 20 years ago – but I wasn’t answering the question he actually asked. I was trying to explain why I was crying.

I couldn’t talk, so I took him into my office and just played the video – at which point, I wasn’t the only one crying. He claimed he had something in his eye😊- both eyes apparently.

I’m not going to try to explain, because there truly are no words.

At that point, what is now named “Tribute Reels” was being called “Life Tribute,” as you can see in the original video in Gilad’s RootsTech talk, here. There was also a surprise for me that I didn’t know about until I watched the video after RootsTech. This part of the video begins at the 30.25-minute mark and the rest is interspersed over the next 12 minutes.

When I was talking to Peggy at RootsTech, I had not attended Gilad’s session, and the video wasn’t available yet, so I didn’t know exactly what was there, and what might have changed.

I’ll show you how to create your own Tribute Reel in a minute, but first, I’d like to share my experience.

Tribute Reels

Tribute Reels is a series of photos sorted in your preferred order, then combined into a reel using AI animation. When AI photo animation first became available, I was not a fan because it was a technology in its infancy and the results were so unnatural that they were almost frightening. However, the technology has matured very quickly, allowing viewers to focus on the subject and not the underpinnings, and MyHeritage is using cutting-edge technology for Tribute Reels.

This is truly a special gift. Seeing Mom in motion long before I was born reminds me of viewing a decades-old home movie that might have been found in an old trunk discovered in the attic.

Gilad selected these photos at random from those I had uploaded to Mom’s profile at MyHeritage, so there was no “special prep” or me selecting especially relevant photos for the proof-of-concept video.

Here’s my reply to Gilad after viewing the Tribute Reel for my mother contained in his email.

Wow Gilad!

First, before I share my techy evaluation and commentary, let me share my experience.

My habit, when I wake up, is to review my e-mail and social media. Social media to see what has happened overnight, and my e-mail to delete spam and such, and to see if there is anything interesting.

Your email was obviously interesting, so I read it and watched the attached video.

Suffice it to say that I started my day with a good cry. I sat outside with my coffee and thought fondly of Mom. I still miss her incredibly.

Now my thoughts about this new video in a less emotional vein.

One of the things I really like is that each of the brought-to-life photos includes the person smiling. They are happy, even if their life wasn’t entirely happy. That’s the human condition, I guess.

In any case, the photos with the children also include touches of affection.

I think the one that touched me the most in my video was the photo of Mom and me together in our matching dresses that we made. I’m sure I was a lot of “help,” but then again, it introduced the love of sewing which I still do today, albeit mixed with art. I very vaguely remember the day that picture was taken. I was maybe 4 or 5, and my father took the photo. I remember how much fun we had making and wearing those dresses. In the picture, we were holding hands, and in the video, that portion was animated in such a touching way. Until the age of digital recording, we would never have been able to see ourselves in videos or “moving pictures” from this timeframe, so it’s like revisiting the past in such a pleasant manner

I noticed this same aspect in other portions of the video as well. The affection and closeness.

Towards the end, there’s a photo of Mom and my stepfather, whom I called Dad. In that animation, he reaches up and touches his tie, but to me, it seemed like a “touch my heart” message. Yes, I know it’s an animation, and that’s not actually possible, but that’s how it made me feel. A silent but well-understood message from the other side.

In the picture on the farm with Dad, Mom, and her aunt, with Spot, the family dog on Dad’s lap – that was just so quintessentially “home.” Of course, we can’t go back in time to a place that no longer exists, with people and fur-family members who have all passed on – but this image served to do that for me. Time travel in the best of ways.

The original photo is blurry – and I while I know it could be digitally “sharpened,” I actually like that it’s blurry because it suggests a misty memory.

And the laughs. Laughing while crying, actually. That picture with Mom holding the huge chocolate bar. She was so happy, and it was her last holiday season with us. She passed on five months later. I’m so incredibly glad I found that mega-sized Hershey’s bar for her. It was supposed to be a joke. Jim gave her a chisel and a hammer to use on it. She ate every bite!

So, speaking of Jim, I asked him to come into my office, and I just played the video for him with no up-front discussion. I turned around and looked at him, standing behind me, having a sudden allergy attack making his eyes water😊 He said, “How could one NOT cry? She’s not even my mother, but I sure miss her. She was such a card.” Then, for a few minutes, we talked about our shared memories of Mom. Jim only knew her for about a decade before she passed on, but they got along very well.

Mom died just before Mother’s Day in 2006. I cleaned out her apartment that Mother’s Day Sunday. So, given that this Mother’s Day marked the 20th anniversary of Mom’s departure from this plane, it was difficult, to say the least, and I so appreciated this very unexpected gift from MyHeritage.

Kind of like a wink and a nod from Mom. I still feel her with me.

Making Your Own Tribute Reel

The MyHeritage blog article explains more about Tribute Reels and provides additional information, here. You’ll also notice a shortened, color-enhanced version of Mom’s Tribute Reel.

To create your own Tribute Reel, sign in to your MyHeritage account, and select Photos, then Tribute Reel.

Click on “Create Tribute Reel”.

MyHeritage suggests people in your tree for whom there are photos available, showing you how many photos you can choose from for each person. Or you can enter someone’s name.

I’m selecting my father this time.

Click on the photos to select at least 5 but as many as 15 for Tribute Reels to use. I uploaded a few more from my computer.

On the next screen, just drag your selected photos to arrange in your preferred order.

I rearranged these, with his favorite hobby as the cover photo, and me visiting his grave to close. You can also add both cover and closing text.

Next, customize your Reel by selecting music, or no sound.

And last, consent to process.

MyHeritage emails you when your Tribute Reel is ready. Mine only took about 15 minutes, but I’m sure it varies widely based on the server load. If the email doesn’t arrive in a timely manner, check your spam filter.

Here’s my father’s reel, so take a look.

Well, here I am, crying again. The baby between my father’s knees is me. It’s the only photo I have of us together. Remember what I said about the looks of affection?

Create a Tribute Reel for someone you love.

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Mom’s Quilt – 52 Ancestors #477

I wasn’t going to write anything for Mother’s Day this year, because Mother’s Day is bittersweet for so many of us. Such powerful and sometimes overwhelming emotions braided together – love, longing, gratitude, and loss. But then, while changing the sheets, I opened the chifforobe and saw her quilts.

I reached out and touched them, closed my eyes for just a second, and saw a scene from long ago.

I began quilting with Mom and the “church ladies” in the church basement, years before I was even old enough to drive. We sat around the frame together, making quilts for the missionaries to take to Africa. It never occurred to me that in Africa, probably the last thing anyone needed was a quilt.

Nevertheless, we believed we were doing something altruistic, useful, and charitable together.

Sewing, in the high school yearbook.

When I learned to sew, I really enjoyed it and began to use the scraps from the clothes I made for both me and Mom to make quilts.

I stopped making quilts after I married, and children arrived. I simply didn’t have time for everything. In addition to taking care of my family, I worked and was slogging my way through college.

For a long time, the best I could do were quilts for family. This quilt for my daughter was one of the first quilts I made when I began quilting again.

Plus, one for her dolls, of course.

Occasionally, I’d make a quilt for a family or someone in need due to a catastrophe of some sort, but my time was still quite constrained.

Because I already had no time, I became a volunteer for the local Humane Society, working with injured fur-persons as a foster-Mom. Not only did it help the animals in need, but I felt it would be a wonderful way to teach my children important values.

The Humane Society was having a fundraiser auction, and I thought it would be a great idea to make a quilt.

Not only did I make that quilt, but I also bid on it and won my own quilt. One of my children liked it so much and had been incredibly disappointed when I told them it was a donation quilt. It would have been much less expensive to make a second quilt, but that child had fallen in love with “that one”!

My time was still limited, but next on the list of quilt recipients was Mom. Over the years, I made Mom a few quilts, and I’m so glad that I did.

The Handbell Sampler Quilt

I visited a local quilt shop where I signed up for a sampler class in which we learned useful techniques while making a variety of blocks.

Mom mentioned how much she liked the colors and individual blocks, so I decided it should be her quilt.

This Sampler Quilt was the first quilt I made for Mom and it included a handbell design that I drew and quilted in each corner. Mom played in the handbell choir at church.

This is also the only full-size quilt I ever entirely hand quilted. Hand quilting alone was very different than quilting as part of a group, with camaraderie and many hands, which meant the quilt was finished relatively quickly. I discovered that I loved the design part and piecing the colorful tops, but not the actual quilting itself.

I was excited to give this quilt to Mom for Christmas. Unfortunately, this is a horrible picture, but it’s the only one of Mom with the quilt. I’m at left, Mom is in the middle and my daughter stands on the right. Some of the fabrics from my daughter’s quilt are in Mom’s quilt, because that’s how quilts work. Love, shared and passed on.

Ironically, I found a leftover scrap of the corner fabric with the bells just last week. Now, that fabric will go into a quilt and become part of extending our three-generation legacy of love.

If there’s a lesson to be learned from this, it’s take lots of pictures. With cell phones, that’s not an issue today – and neither is waiting to get them developed and printed, only to discover too late that the photo is awful.

Mom loved this quilt so much that she hung it over a quilt rack where she could see it, but it was always being saved “for good.” I can still see it in my mind, standing in a place of honor in the corner of her bedroom. To this day, I have no idea when quilts saved “for good” were to be used, but it seems the answer is that they are much loved, but not a part of daily life.

Know where that quilt lives today? In that chifforobe, folded neatly on a shelf. Never used, never gotten dirty, never washed – loved, but never sharing in life. That wasn’t what I had in mind, especially since I had designed the block with the bells just for her. But she loved it, and that’s really all that mattered.

Ironically, now I don’t want to use it because it was Mom’s, it’s hand-quilted, and I don’t want to ruin it somehow.

I commit right now to putting it on the bed in the guest room!!

The time to use the “Good Quilt” has finally come, and it will be waiting for my daughter next time she visits.

The Scrap Kaleidoscope Spiderweb Quilt

Several years later, I made Mom a scrap spiderweb quilt, also called a kaleidoscope quilt. I figured she would actually use this one – as in sleep under it on her bed. I made it using scraps from the other quilts I had been making. There were scraps from her sampler quilt, my daughter’s quilt, quilts I made for Dad before he passed, quilts for other family members, care quilts, and so many more. Just looking at this quilt is a trip down memory lane.

We even used this quilt as a backdrop for family photos.

Mom slept under this quilt from the Mother’s Day she received it until she passed, five years or so later.

In her final days, when Mom was in the hospital, I slept in her bed at her apartment, and this quilt comforted me too. Now, sometimes I use this quilt on my bed, or put it over the back of the couch and smile as I walk past.

Stars Over Broadway

The third quilt I made Mom was actually a wall hanging meant to honor her. Mom was a professional tap and ballet dancer in her younger years. By the time I arrived, she had retired as a dancer, was working in an office, and had taken up crocheting as a hobby.

Mom created stunningly beautiful crocheted items, like tops, vests, coats, purses, and, of course, traditional afghans.

Her pièces de résistance, though, were lacy items – shawls, like the one above, tops and even a bedspread.

Each female in the family, and others she loved, received a beautiful shawl meant for dressy affairs. When she passed, this shawl was left and went to her great-niece, which would have pleased Mom immensely.

Mom entered her creations into fairs and other competitions, often bringing home blue ribbons and Best of Show rosettes. First locally, then across the country.

I even adapted one of her Best of Show rosettes as a Christmas tree topper.

We began taking our things to competitions together. Me – cross stitch, counted thread and quilts – and Mom – all manner of crocheting. Often, my daughter joined us. She won her first National award when she was about 11 for an original art piece. We were so proud of her!

As much as was possible in that day and time, Mom’s life had been rooted in creativity. When she retired from dancing, her creative outlet took other forms.

I never realized it then, but by example while I was growing up, Mom had been fostering that same creative spirit in me as we worked on varied crafts together.

When patterns were too expensive or not exactly what we wanted, we made our own and utilized every scrap of everything.

Our kitchen table was often a creative mess, with an old sewing machine, supplies, scissors and other materials scattered all over, but did we ever have fun!!

So, the third quilt I made Mom was titled “Stars Over Broadway,” a nod to both fields in which she excelled. I utilized just a few of the ribbons she had won over many years, plus one of mine and my daughter’s too. The three of us together.

By this time in my life, I was designing and making art quilts, so the style had changed a lot, and I was no longer using patterns.

There’s a lot of symbolism in this quilt. The ribbons dance in a circle, holding hands – echoing the bond between the women in our family over generations. Light to dark reflects the passage of time. My daughter is the “Seventh Generation of Hoosier Needlewomen” in our family, the name of an exhibit the three of us hung together at the Allen County Public Library a few years earlier.

This quilt is also affectionately nicknamed, “Never Again,” because I discovered that there is absolutely no “give” or flexibility in those ribbons so the cutting and sewing had to be absolutely precise! Hence, never again!

At a 1988 awards banquet in Louisville, KY, Mom wears a beautiful, crocheted top that she created.

Mom would often accompany me to shows and venues where my work was being exhibited, along with awards banquets. She amused me. Never mind my academic degrees and profession – it was my artistic endeavors she was the proudest of. Perhaps because she could see, feel, and understand those.

But it was the fourth quilt, the fourth quilt that I made Mom that was different.

Before I share that quilt with you, I need to explain something about quilts.

What is a Quilt?

This isn’t a technical answer – but an answer from my heart.

A quilt is whatever you need it to be in the moment. Quilts are created and given for a multitude of reasons – but how they are used, when, and for what purpose, is entirely up to the recipient. Quilts have a life journey and purpose of their own. Sometimes the same quilt is different things at different times, and even to different people.

A quilt can serve as an art piece, or a room decoration, something to sleep under, or a picnic quilt.

Quilts are their own language of love, given as an expression of love, caring, and hope. Every minute we work on a quilt, every stitch is made while lifting the recipient into the light. Prayer quilts, care quilts, comfort quilts – a quilt by any name you wish to call it.

Sometimes we make memory quilts. Using Mom’s clothes, I made memory quilts for all her children and grandchildren. They selected the clothing that they wanted in their quilt. This was difficult for me, but it was also a way that I could say farewell, at least on this plane, and process my grief.

Plus, I got to relive such wonderful memories and give each of them one final gift from her.

This is my quilt. There are enough stories here to last for days, many funny or heartwarming. Some of these squares are from sweatshirts that I cross-stitched for her, and the blue stripe in the left-hand bottom corner is the tie that my Dad (step-father) wore when he walked me down the aisle.

Mom always bought linen calendar towels for each family member for Christmas every year – no matter how much we hinted that we already had enough. None of us liked them, but after she was gone, we cherished them because they were uniquely from her. Now they are all in our individual quilts – with years selected to mean something to the recipient – and of course the associated stories that those memories evoke. I laugh every time I see mine! I also get teary-eyed.

I’ll be getting this out on Mother’s Day, along with a box of Kleenex.

My daughter’s quilt. Everything here is symbolic, including the rose fabric. Mom loved roses. A college t-shirt that my daughter bought my mother as a gift, a piece of Mom’s blue bathrobe that she wore for years, along with part of the cute pig towel from the kitchen on the farm where Mom and Dad raised hogs.

Memory quilts aren’t meant to be beautiful. They are meant to be meaningful and comforting, even joyful.

Quilt makers want their quilts to be used in whatever way the recipient needs.

Larger quilts typically serve as traditional bedcoverings. If someone doesn’t feel well, a quilt comforts. Smaller, personal size quilts are often more easily portable. I have at least one in the car at all times.

If you’re cold, grab a quilt. It will keep you warm.

If you’re sleepy and need a nap, grab your quilt. It will refresh you.

If you feel ill, grab your quilt. It will help heal you.

If you need a hug from one or maybe all of your ancestors, by all means, grab your quilt. Let them hug you. It will comfort and encourage you.

If you need a hug from someone who is not there, wrap your quilt around yourself in a big hug.

Mom’s Quilt

The fourth and final quilt that I made Mom is simply called Mom’s Quilt.

I went to a class in Northern Michigan with a friend to learn some new quilting techniques. We were excited because, among other things, it was a girls’ road trip.

In that class, with the aurora borealis dancing overhead at night, I made a smaller, personal-size quilt. I didn’t know how it would turn out, so I wasn’t making it specifically “for” anyone, but it just happened to be in some of Mom’s favorite colors, and made from some of the fabrics I had used in other family quilts.

After Dad passed away in 1994, Mom moved to town. She never really recovered from his death and slowly declined over the following decade. As she aged, she was always cold, and I didn’t want to encourage her to bring her bed quilt into the living room to use in her recliner. I was afraid her feet would become tangled, and she would fall.

I finished that aurora borealis quilt for Mom, feeling as if it had been specially blessed by Dad, watching over us from the Heavens. We could even hear the aurora those two nights, crackling and popping in the glorious sky as we looked up. I was spellbound, wide-eyed and speechless. I had never seen the aurora borealis before and felt like a child who thinks they unexpectedly caught a glimpse of Santa. I wish it hadn’t been before the days of photos on cell phones. When I finally fell back to sleep, I experienced extremely vivid dreams that included Dad and lingered long after morning.

Mom loved that quilt. She fell asleep in her chair, drawing it close and snuggling under it daily, with her cat firmly planted on her lap. Now I desperately wish I had taken a picture of her with her quilt in her chair. That’s how I remember her often.

Why do we only think to take pictures on “special occasions” and not of normal, everyday life?

When I gave Mom the quilt, it was “just a quilt,” until I realized she used it every single day. As her health deteriorated, and after she fell and broke her pelvis, she used it even more. It was no longer “just a quilt.” It had a much more important job.

I managed to extract it from her long enough to wash it once or twice, but for the most part, it was glued to her during her last few years. Although she eventually recovered enough to go about her life, delivering Avon to her friends and customers, she and that quilt were inseparable when she was home. It was like a favorite bathrobe or pair of comfy jeans. It became burned into my memory – Mom sitting in her chair, wrapped up in her quilt.

Mom’s quilt.

Mom passed on April 30, 2006 and it was on Mother’s Day that year that I had the utterly miserable task of packing up everything in her apartment and loading it into a U-Haul to bring it all home. That was the saddest Mother’s Day of my life.

On the morning of her stroke, Mom’s quilt rested in her chair from the evening before when she used it for the final time. I could tell she had fallen asleep there and had simply gotten up and gone to bed. It was still shaped like her body, with her crossword puzzle book and pencil lying with it.

I took her quilt to her in the hospital where she initially touched it, clutching the edge with her one good hand, but her condition worsened, and she was no longer even slightly conscious. After hospice entered the picture, and her care became “messier,” the staff said we should take the quilt home so it didn’t get lost, stolen or thrown away. We could always bring it back if she recovered consciousness, but we knew that wasn’t going to happen.

I took the quilt back to Mom’s apartment where my daughter and I were staying to be close to the hospital, just two blocks away. I returned it to her chair, even knowing that she would never sit there again. That’s where it seemed to belong, holding space.

That Mother’s Day, I gently folded it up, put it on the seat beside me after everything was loaded, and brought it home.

I probably should have washed it, but I just couldn’t. The places that showed a bit of wear that might have needed a bath were “her,” and I wanted all of her I could preserve.

I put Mom’s Quilt away. Every time I saw it, I saw her, jolting me back to the reality that she was gone. I just wasn’t ready for that yet. Losing Mom was losing my last anchor, and I felt adrift, unmoored in an ugly and painful sea.

Grief is love with nowhere to go – but after some of the initial shock and pain subsided, I had such fond memories of our time together, and I began to smile again.

It didn’t take too long for me to get the quilt back out, because it reminded me of her.

Mom’s quilt migrated around the house, sometimes on the back of the loveseat, sometimes on the back of “her chair,” which I brought home and put in my bedroom, sometimes on the quilt rack where I could see it, and from time-to-time, in my office.

When I saw Mom’s Quilt, I would smile. Sometimes there were still tears, but less often.

You never stop needing your mom.

Life happened.

Over time, other tragedies occurred, ushering in overwhelming, crushing loss. I needed to feel close to Mom, so I retrieved her quilt from wherever it was living at the moment and wrapped myself in it. I always felt better knowing it had brought her comfort too.

Life brought celebrations too.

The Labyrinth

About 25 years ago, I designed and installed a labyrinth in my yard as a place of quiet reflection and introspection, a spiritual walk designed to allow us as travelers upon the earth to move a few steps closer to the Creator.

On one especially momentous day, I wanted to feel close to Mom, to share joy with her, so I draped her quilt around my shoulders and walked to the labyrinth.

Mom and I walked together, wrapped in love.

Hope buoyed us.

Well, actually, we sort of flew, with the wind beneath our wings.

Jim slipped quietly out behind me and took pictures. Thank goodness he did.

The labyrinth is designed for the journey seeker to arrive in the center after a freeing, contemplative walk all the way around each of the labyrinth’s intersecting circles. The labyrinth itself is representative of the “Center,” a place of quiet contemplation. A place to free one’s mind and reflect.

A labyrinth is the polar opposite of a maze which is filled with dead ends and frustration.

In a labyrinth, there is only one path, with no distracting decisions to make, and the walker arrives effortlessly in the center.

For the center of my labyrinth, I selected a stone shaped like a “seat” to facilitate reflection while overlooking a field, pond and woods. Nature at its finest. Quietly healing and nurturing.

Sometimes, though, we turn and look backward, reflecting, before looking ahead again.

Life was changing. The tide was turning.

I am no longer the steward of the labyrinth, and life has changed dramatically in the past few years, but when I need or want to feel close to Mom, I still reach for her quilt. It’s timeless.

One day, my daughter will do the same.