Jacques Bourgeois (c1620-c1700), Surgeon of Port Royal – 52 Ancestors #449

Jacques Bourgeois is one of the earliest Acadian ancestors. Unlike many, he has an actual proven arrival date, and he’s a fascinating character with an ever-present mysterious edge.

Not only was Jacques a primary founder of Port Royal as a seat of government, he also founded Beaubassin which also served briefly as the capital of Acadia. I suspect he was a far more powerful man than many knew, even then – greasing various wheels of power behind the scenes.

Jacques literally lived through the first half of the entire Acadian existence in Nova Scotia – from 1642 to about 1700. Roughly 58 years. It would be another 55 years after his death until the Grand Dérangement, as the 1755 expulsion of the Acadians was known.

Early Life

There’s a lot of controversial and unproven speculation floating around about Jacques’ potential parents. It’s all unproven, so barring new information tying Jacques to a European family, I’m omitting it from this discussion because I don’t want to be responsible for perpetuating speculative information. That said, the least speculative version appears on the first two pages of this document.

Other histories report that there were two men in Acadia at the same time named Jacques Bourgeois, one being “our” Jacques’ father by the same name. I have not seen anything to substantiate this claim either, and we do have evidence otherwise, including a 1687 deposition.

Our Jacques Bourgeois was born around 1619 or 1620 in France. That much is fact!

Between his birth and his arrival in Acadia in 1641/1642, he apprenticed as a chirurgien, a surgeon, sometimes called a barber-surgeon, someplace. Studying as a surgeon then meant an apprenticeship where one learned how to perform specific procedures, like bloodletting, from a “master.”

A barber-surgeon wasn’t the same thing as a physician. One difference was that a chirurgien required no formal training and did not have to pass a test, which a physician did. Requirements, skills, and “quality” of training and care varied widely. I’m sure that more remote country areas were grateful for compassionate care from whoever had the knowledge and skills to help them.

There are no records to suggest where Jacques studied or apprenticed.

I asked ChatGPT to draw an authentic chirurgien from France in 1640, so our Jacques might have looked and dressed something like this.

This drawing of a French Chirurgien in the early/mid 1700s shows him gleefully wearing the tools of his profession.

Medicine and hospitals were often associated with the Catholic Church, and surgeons in France during this timeframe had multiple duties. They were referred to as barber-surgeons because in addition to “surgery,” they also pulled teeth, shaved people, trimmed beards, and cut hair – probably with the same blade they used for surgery after simply wiping it clean.

Sterilization and the sources of infection weren’t yet understood, so the razors used for haircuts and grooming were also used for whatever was necessary for the next patient with an injury who needed stitches, or more.

Well, that was AFTER stitches came into vogue and wounds were closed with ligatures instead of the horrific practice of cauterization, all without anesthetic, of course.

If you’re cringing, me too.

Surgeons played key roles in battlefield medicine and “dentistry,” such as it was at the time, along with assisting with difficult childbirths. If a surgeon was called for a birth, it’s probably unlikely that the child survived. Midwives were much more experienced. Many times, by the time a surgeon was involved with any injury, it was so severe that the patient perished. If they didn’t die from the injury itself, or bleeding, they died of infection.

In the 1600s, it was still believed that the body had “four humors” and illness was caused by the humors being out of balance. Bloodletting, purging, and enemas were believed to restore balance. Sounds like a wonderful profession, right?

The only pain relief available to surgeons was opium, henbane, which is both a hallucinogenic plant and poisonous in addition to being a painkiller, and of course, “spirits.”

It must have been a depressing field – and Jacques apparently self-administered his own “tonic” in the form of strong spirits.

That might explain why Louis-Alexandre des Friches de Meneval in his 1688 report after his 1687 arrival as Acadia’s new Governor, reported that:

The cost of living was high; there was a shortage of flour and of workers; some of the soldiers were old and disabled and had ceased to be of any use; the contingent of the preceding year had received bad muskets and that of 1688 had only 19 muskets between 30 soldiers, so that half of them were without arms; the surgeon was a drunkard, and the court had neglected to supply funds with which to pay him; a hospital and medical supplies were needed.

A hospital in 17th-century France was somewhat different than today’s hospital in that it was a charitable institution, often part of a monastery, and served religious, shelter, and severe health needs. Mortality rates were high, and sometimes hospital patients were served by nuns, not doctors.

Jacques Bourgeois was the surgeon for all of Acadia – so he was assuredly well-known by everyone, but clearly worked under very challenging conditions.

Nevertheless, Jacques was the most prosperous Acadian by any measure. He also owned productive land and was a fur trader, farmer, shipbuilder and mariner as well.

His merchant vessels plied the waters of the coastline of the Baie Française, now the Bay of Fundy, to trade with the Mi’kmaq people, then following the coast in the other direction to New England to trade with the English.

But let’s step back in time to Jacques’s arrival in Acadia

D’Aulnay and Acadia

In 1632, England returned Acadia and what is now Canada to France by treaty, and the French King began granting land concessions.

Isaac de Razilly established the outpost of La Hève in 1632 on the southern coast of Acadia, almost opposite Port Royal. With Charles de Menou d’Aulnay as his assistant, they transported men and eventually a few families to populate this remote outpost.

D’Aulnay recruited heavily from La Chaussee and the area near Loudon, in France, his mother’s seigneury.

Many Acadian families farmed in the region and attended this church in La Chaussee, now attached to the Acadian Museum.

After Razilly’s death in 1635, his brother became the new Governor of Acadia, and d’Aulnay continued to work for him. Razilly never set foot in Acadia, while d’Aulnay not only ran the colony, but moved the seat of Acadia to Port Royal. He built a new fort there, moved the La Hève residents, and requested 20 additional families.

Acadian Civil War

Acadia was about to become embroiled in its own Civil War – small though Acadia might be.

Charles La Tour also held a commission, granted in 1635, for part of Acadia located at Cape Sable and the mouth of the Saint John River. Cable Sable was between La Hève (now La Have), Pentagouet and Port Royal, all controlled by d’Aulnay, and Saint John was directly across the Bay from Port Royal.

It’s no wonder that they stepped on each other’s toes. Animosity between the men grew.

Accusations and worse were flying by 1640, and d’Aulnay obtained an order from the King to arrest La Tour, administer his two forts, and send La Tour back to France to make an accounting of himselt. D’Aulnay tried, but could not overpower La Tour’s fort at the Saint John River to arrest him, so on February 15, 1641, instead of returning La Tour on the ship that had carried the King’s order, he returned with a letter stating that La Tour refused to be arrested. D’Aulnay also returned to seek assistance in Acadia, and additional power.

Eventually, d’Aulnay obtained controlling interest in the company that Razilly controlled, which had already sunk a ton of money into Acadia, with virtually nothing to show for it.

While Razilly and the rest of the investors were discouraged and disappointed, d’Aulnay, on the other hand, was upbeat and exceedingly hopeful. He saw a bright future for Acadia and his optimism must have been infectious.

Setting Sail for Acadia

On May 7, 1641, a Tuesday, Jacques Bourgeois, a young surgeon of 20 or 21, was in La Rochelle, preparing to sail to Acadia. We don’t know if d’Aulnay recruited him from his mother’s seigneury or not, or if Jacques was already living in La Rochelle or elsewhere.

Jacques was probably living in a rented room in La Rochelle, or at least slept there overnight before his journey. The crew and passengers were all paid something in advance, so they had money to visit the pub one last time, or leave money with their family, just in case they never returned.

While Jacques’ shipmates may have slept in the grass beside the dock, Jacques, as the surgeon, had a larger advance than anyone else, so he very likely slept inside, in a room someplace.

Come morning, he descended the worn stairs that had seen thousands of feet before him.

This journey he was about to undertake was both exciting and fraught with peril. Jacques, although anticipating his new life, probably slept fitfully, if at all. Maybe a little wine, or something stronger, helped with that.

Was the chill he felt, walking alone in the early morning on the uneven cobblestones just the norning dew, or was it something else? A touch of fear, perhaps?

Regardless, that day that would change his life forever. Jacques walked down the streets of La Rochelle through the city gate.

The future awaited.

The harbour was still asleep, but gleamed peacefully and beautifully in front of him. Inviting him down to the water’s edge.

In the stillness of the dawn, he walked along the waterfront, and down to the wharf. He saw the church in the distance and the towers, ancient sentries of the gate he would pass through. A portal to a distant land and unknown future.

Were they beckoning him, or warning him to stay in La Rochelle?

Did Jacques look at the harbour in front of him and wonder about the future, or was he simply excited to set out on an adventure? He was, after all, a young man.

Uncertainly also begets opportunity.

As the sun emerged on the horizon, was the adrenalin and excitement that kept him from sleeping the night before still pumping through his veins? Or, had he joined with some of the other passengers or friends and family for a boisterous “au revoir”?

Sometimes a little fear can be soothed, or masked, by spirits.

Did he walk to the towers as the harbor stirred from its sleep, with laborers on the docks and wharfs beginning to load ships that were destined to leave that day?

His destiny lay on the Saint-Francois. She was moored and waiting, rocking gently to and fro.

Did Jacques slip into a church and say a prayer? What was his prayer to God for?

Did he carry his rosary tucked away in his pocket?

Did he pray to Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, and perhaps carry a St. Christopher medallion with him? Perhaps he wore it around his neck where he could touch it easily?

Did Jacques realize there were few eligible women for brides in Acadia? Did he think about any of this as the sailors weathered hands loosed the ship’s ropes from the mooring rings and he sailed off into forever?

As the ship slipped between the towers, did his throat tighten a bit?

Did he expect to return to La Rochelle at some point?

He never would.

Jacques must surely have realized that some ships never arrived at their destination, and their passengers slept eternally among the fishes.

Ships were as sturdy as they could make them, but the ocean’s power was immense.

Was he just a tiny bit afraid? Did he quietly wave goodbye to all that was familiar and swallow that knot in his throat?

Did he think of his mother?

As they sailed out of the harbor, past the island, into the sea, did Jacques by any chance have a premonition that he was setting eyes on La Rochelle, and France, for the last time – ever? They became mere dots on the horizon, then disappeared into the past.

Did his parents and family know he was leaving? Embarking for New France? Were they still alive, and if so, where did his family live?

Was anyone standing on the shore, waving as the ship sailed into the sunlight of tomorrows?

Jacques Bourgeois set sail on the ship, the Saint-Francois, with 34 other men, including:

  • The captain
  • The pilot
  • Boatswain who was in charge of the ship and crew, who he managed through whistles
  • 9 sailors plus three marked as absent
  • A carpenter
  • A gunner (cannoneer)
  • A cabin boy
  • 17 soldiers, including one wounded
  • One soldier is listed as both a soldier and surgeon, which causes me to wonder if his specialty was battlefield injuries
  • A baker
  • An assistant commissary who would have managed food and supplies

For the next several weeks, these men would be his bunkmates, his companions. Fellow adventures, sharing stories about their families and lives back in France, and their hopes and dreams for the future. They probably all pretended not to be homesick and prayed not to be seasick.

Based on what we’ve learned about the rest of Jacques life, I’d say he enjoyed the journey, because ships became interwoven in his future.

The Saint-Francois

We are fortunate to have a roster of d’Aulnay’s ship, the Saint-Francois.

On December 12, 1642, Nicolas Denys penned a statement that totaled the cost of the expedition, including what was paid to crew members, passengers, and soldiers, which I transcribed and translated with the help of ChatGPT. I am unclear whether this was the cost one way only, or both ways.

Update in November, 2025. Marc Bourgeois, a native french-speaking genealogist, was kind enough to translate the original and provide me with updates. You can also find out what is known about the remaining rosters of all of the Acadian voyages in the Internet Archives, here.

  • Note #1: Ships crew begins with the captain and continues through Jehan Mouton.
  • Note #2: Three men were the names of sailors who received money, fled and were put in the service of the king. Jacques Boullant, Matelot, received a 33 livre advance, but was marked as absent. So was Pierre du Breuil and Jehan Poriier, who are on the list that follows.
  • Note #3: Military, begins with Bertrand Aubert.
  • Note #4: Names of those who are to remain overseas. Begins with Denis Baniard, a soldier who needs to be added to the chart. He was to receive 75 livres per year, received an advance but the amount is not stated, and is to remain oveseas at the post..
  • Note #5: Names of soldiers who fled during the last release. Begins iwth Pierre Fleureau.

The note number has been added in the Commentary column.

 Name Role Wage Advance Livres Sous Deniers Commentary
Captain LeBoeuf Captain 162 due Since Sept 1642 0 0 Captain’s wages carried over from and of year 1641 not rectified. #1
Jehan Marton Ship’s Pilot 12 livres/mo 64 2 1 Plus advance. #1
Pierre Brettois Ship’s Boatswain 12 livres/mo 36 0 0 Received advance. #1
Matelin Gomeau Sailor 10 livres mo 45 0 0 Received advance. #1
Name crossed out – maybe Jean Jacquet or Samuel? Sailor 8 livresmo 42 0 0 Line was crossed out. #1
Jean Giroux Sailor  livres/mo 22 0 0 Received an advance. #!
Jouannis Marot Sailor 9 livres/mo 39 0 0 Received advance. #1
Pierre Lemasson? Sailor 9 livres/mo 42 0 0 Received advance. #1
Jehan de Mes Carpenter 16 livres/mo 47 7 0 Received advance. #1
François Rublanche Sailor 12 livres/mo 36 0 0 Received advance. #1
Marceau Mallet Gunner (cannoneer) 15 livres/mo 30 0 0 Received advance. #1
Noël Guittault Sailor 11 livres/mo 28 4 6 Received advance. #1
André Margonne Sailor 12 livres/mo 24 0 0 Received advance. #1
Guillaume Blondel Sailor 11 livres/mo 28 7 0 Received advance. #1
Jehan Moutton Cabin boy 11 9 6 Received advance. #1
Pierre du Breuil Sailor Absent 40 0 0 Marked as absent. #2
Jehan Poirier Sailor Absent 36 0 0 Marked as absent. #2
Bertrand Aubert Soldier 9 livres/mo 18 0 0 Received advance. #3
Habraham Fleurant Soldier 9livres/mo 23 0 0 Received advance. #3
Jehan Saubriat Soldier 7 livres/mo 14 0 0 Received advance. #3
André Savigneau Soldier 10 livres/mo 14 0 0 Received advance. #3
Henot Jacop Soldier 10 livres/mo 30 0 0 Received advance. #3
Jehan Moizard Soldier 9 livres/mo 33 0 0 Received advance. #3
Jehan Oslie Soldier 10 livres/mo 30 0 0 Received advance, to remain behind on land. #3
Pierre Chalopin Soldier 75 livres/yr 37 10 0 Received advance, to remain overseas at the post. #4
François Pofroy Baker 200 livres/yr 100 0 0 Received advance, to remain overseas at the post, baker by trade. #4
Jacques Bourgeois Surgeon 45 écus/yr 47 4 0 Surgeon; salary in écus, to remain overseas at the post. #4
Mr. Mallet Assistant commissary 3 0 0 Received advance and left as assistant commissary. #4
Pierre Fleureau Soldier 33 0 0 Fled but received advance. #5
Philippe de la Haye Soldier 36 0 0 Fled but received advance. #5
Massiau Brullon Soldier & Surgeon 37 0 0 Fled but had received advance. #5
Maliedin Quaucet Soldier 20 0 0 Assigned to M. Courroux, received advance. #5
Jehan Michel Soldier 33 0 0 Fled but received advance.. #5
Mathurin Leduc Soldier 33 1 6 Fled but received advance. #5
Jehan du Bois? or Puis Soldier 36 0 0 Received advance. #5
Alexandre Langleborne Soldier (wounded) 33 0 0 Wounded soldier, received advance. #5

For reference, the livre was a unit of accounting, and one livre equaled about 20 sols. Each sol equaled about 12 deniers. Originally, one ecu was equivalent to about a pound of silver. Jacques was the only man paid in ecus.

An ecu was an actual coin. Before 1640, the ecu was only made of gold, but in 1640 King Louis XIII introduced the silver ecu which was worth about six livres. Jacques’ pay of 45 ecus per year, equivalent to about 270 livres, was significantly higher than anyone else’s pay and was in an actual coin which could be traded because it was a precious metal. The next highest paid person was, surprisingly, the baker. Everyone needs to eat!

It’s interesting to note that only five men were designated to remain overseas at the post:

  • Denis Baniard, a soldier
  • Pierre Chalopin, a soldier
  • Francois Pofroy, the baker
  • Jacques Bourgeois, the surgeon
  • Mr. Mallet, the assistant commisary

Apparently, the other men or went back to France at some point.

It’s also interesting that everyone received an advance, which must have been customary at that time.

Jehan Piorier, a sailer marked absent, is the same name as a man who would eventually become one of the founding Acadians. We don’t know if this was the same Jean Piorier, or not. If so, he arrived on another ship, because he was absent on this one, and married Jeanne Chebrat by 1647 in Acadia.

It would be another 30 years before the first census in Port Royal that would either enumerate the residents, or their descendants, assuming anyone had survived.

A lot can happen in 30 years.

A lot did happen in 30 years!!

Warfare

The conflict between Charles de La Tour and Menou d’Aulnay began with Razilly’s death and lasted in one way or another until 1645 when d’Aulnay captured La Tour’s forts, forcing him into exile.

In fact, this Acadian Civil War may have been part of the reason why d’Aulnay recruited a surgeon.

In 1640, La Tour left Saint John, crossed the Bay of Fundy, then attacked d’Aulnay at Port Royal. D’Aulnay’s prevailed despite his captain being killed. La Tour surrendered, and d’Aulnay proceeded to blockade Fort Saint John.

As luck would have it, Jacques Bourgeois arrived just in time to become engaged in the next blockade of St. John in 1642. Did he wonder what the heck he had gotten himself into?

The 1643 Battle of Port Royal

D’Aulnay blockaded La Tour’s fort, again, for several months. In July of 1643, La Tour arrived from Boston with four ships and 270 men to retake his fort. After succeeding, he then chased d’Aulnay back home across the bay and attacked d’Aulnay at Port Royal.

Three of d’Aulnay’s men were killed and seven wounded. La Tour burned the mill at Port Royal, killed livestock, seized furs, gunpowder and other supplies, but he did not directly attack the fort which was only defended by 20 soldiers.

This gives us some idea of the defensive force, or lack thereof, at Port Royal.

Jacques, then 23 or 24 years old, assuredly treated those injured soldiers and perhaps the ones that died too.

All of the residents had to be worried. Not IF La Tour would come back to haunt Port Royal, but when? How many soldiers would he bring with him? How many ships? Would he burn the fort? Would he kill the residents? What about the families?

The game of cat and mouse was deadly.

Could Port Royal and Fort Anne defend itself?

Marriage

In the 1671 census, Jacques Bourgeois is listed first, a surgeon, age 50, married to Jeanne Trahan, age 40. Their eldest child is Jeanne Bourgeois, age 27, so she was born about 1644.

This means that Jacques and Jeanne Trahan were married about 1643, so not long after Jacques arrived in Acadia, although perhaps two battles after he had arrived in Port Royal. Did they marry before the 1643 Battle of Port Royal?

Not many European brides were available in Acadia, as few families had made the trip, so Jacques was probably very pleased to marry Jeanne, even though they were a young couple. Men, in that timeframe, generally didn’t marry until they were about 30, but young women often married as soon as they were mature enough to bear children. Jacques was about 23 and Jeanne was about 15 when her first child was born.

They would have been married in Port Royal not long after it was established. There may or may not have been an actual church, but regardless, they would have been married by the priest, or a ship’s chaplain – some man of God. Of course, no records from that timeframe remain.

The War Continues

In 1645, the continuous war between d’Aulnay and La Tour reached a crescendo, and it’s almost a certainty that Jacques Bourgeois was involved. Why do I think that? It’s incomprehensible that d’Aulnay would enter a military action without his trusted surgeon on board.

In April 1645, d’Aulnay got word that La Tour had departed for Boston and issued orders that every man who could carry a musket needed to report.

D’Aulnay needed every man old enough to carry a gun or fire a cannon. It’s difficult to believe there were 200 men in all of Acadia, but that’s the number d’Aulnay was reported to have. Nine years later, after several more ships of settlers has probably arrived from France, Nicolas Denys reported that there were about 270 people in Port Royal, which would equate to about 30-40 households. Even if all households had three adult or near-adult sons, that’s only 100-120 people, so it’s logical that nine years earlier, d’Aulnay’s crew would have been comprised of soldiers at the fort, plus all able-bodied Acadian men. Perhaps d’Aulnay had multiple ships in port at the time to buoy those numbers.

D’Aulnay first sent an emissary across the Bay to Saint John to request that the fort surrender, but the request was dismissed by La Tour’s wife, Françoise-Marie Jacquelin.

D’Aulnay with 200 men sailed across the Bay of Fundy, set up a battery on shore, and made one last call for surrender, which was met with catcalls and insults.

The fort then raised the red flag of defiance, and d’Aulnay attacked.

La Tour’s 23-year-old wife, Françoise-Marie, assumed command and fought valiantly for someplace between 1 and 5 days, accounts vary, even though badly outnumbered.

On April 16th, Easter Sunday, before dawn, expecting the advantage of surprise, d’Aulnay ordered his men forward across the ditches and ramparts. However, La Tour’s men were waiting for them, and greeted them with swords, pikes and halberds.

Giving up on under the direst of circumstances, Francoise-Marie obtained d’Aulnay’s assurances that he would not harm the soldiers, granting “quarter to all.”

Furious over their resistance, after the surrender, d’Aulnay immediately broke his promise, forcing Francoise-Marie to watch the execution of every soldier, except the one who agreed to be the executioner, bound, with a rope around her own neck.

D’Aulnay did not hang Francoise-Marie, but after discovering that she had attempted to send a letter to La Tour in Boston through a Mi’kmaq friend, he ordered her into “severe restraints” where she fell ill.

She died three weeks after the fort fell, under questionable circumstances, a hostage of d’Aulnay.

LaTour did not find out about his wife’s death until June, then retreated to Quebec and did not return until after d’Aulnay’s demise five years later, in 1650.

Jacques Bourgeois would have witnessed this entire barbaric event personally.

How I wish he had left us a journal of his life.

Hogg Island

The first land granted by d’Aulnay, en censive, meaning as a feudal lord, was in Port Royal, near the fort, the hub of social, religious and trading activity. In 1646, Jacques and Jeanne were granted an island called île aux Cochons, Hogg Island, situated in the Riviere Dauphin (today’s Annapolis River) on the outskirts of Port-Royal.

In a 1702 document, Jacques’ land at Hogg Island is mentioned as having been granted by d’Aulnay forty years earlier, except we know that d’Aulnay died 52 years earlier. The document continued to describe the land as bounded by the road and the River Dauphin, but the number of feet in width was left blank. Brouillan, the Governor beginning in 1701 took Hogg Island which, at that time, belonged to Etienne Pellerin. He then extended Rue St. Antoine to lay out a town in that direction and erected his home on Hogg Island, wherein he could see the fort from his abode.

This 1686 map shows Hogg Island and other buildings in Port Royal, along with what looks like two buildings on Hogg Island.

It’s also interesting that you can see the typical boats used in the river, not the ocean-going ships, of course.

Acadians, including women, rowed back and forth across the river like we drive across bridges today. The river divided the Acadian community, but it seemed to function quite well on both banks of the river.

Here’s another hand-drawn 1686 map. The scale is a bit off in this one, you but you can still see the location and buildings, along with the waterfront mill and the cemetery near the fort.

The drawings of the ships on this map are beautiful.

I can see Jacques and the other men rowing their boats in the basin.

Jacques Bourgeois sold Hogg Island to Etienne Pellerin years later, sometime around 1700.

This map from 1708, after Jacques had died and Hogg Island was still owned by the Pellerin family, shows the land in greater detail, including the stream that sets Hogg Island apart from the rest of Port Royal and makes it an island.

You can also see the dykes that keep the saltwater at bay and allow the fields to be farmed.

Jacques may have been a surgeon, but perhaps more than anything, he was a shrewd opportunist and an investor in Acadia.

Jacques began trading with the English out of New England, specifically with John Nelson and William Phipps. He learned English and became the King’s interpreter between the French and English at Port Royal.

For the first thirty years of his life in Port Royal, Hogg Island wasn’t only his home, but his trading post, store, and place of business. As a surgeon, he probably treated people there as well, although I suspect that he visited most people in their homes.

It didn’t hurt anything that visitors who came to barter or trade could tie their boats or canoes on the shoreline, right on Hogg Island. If he was smart, and he assuredly was, he probably had a tavern too so his guests would wet their whistle and make themselves comfortable with a hearty meal.

Perhaps the amenities made the trading process easier!

Walking Hogg Island

When I visited Nova Scotia in 2024, I walked Hogg Island in the late afternoon and at dusk, thinking about Jacques’ life there.

Today’s Hogg Island looks very different.

I can’t tell the exact boundaries, but I can identify the waterfront portion. I know that Hogg Island is at least the area within the red arrows and may extend across Highway 1 to the right.

Hogg Island was probably named as such because, due to the enclosing stream, you could pasture hogs and cattle without them wandering off. In Acadian terms, it was prime real estate both for farming and trading.

Today, at the location where St. George Street along the waterfront turns right and becomes Chapel Street, Annapolis Royal has placed a historical sign.

While today’s road to Hogg Island ends here, there’s a nice walking path above the shoreline.

There’s only one path out and back, so you’re walking with me in both directions.

As we walk, to my right, I can see the contemporary homes, but I imagine Jacques’ home standing there, along with his barns, of course, and maybe even a store of sorts, used for trading.

Perhaps a trading post where men would walk a short path up from the river, pull a chair up close to the fire, warm their hands, dry their boots, imbibe, and make their best deal.

They dyked the marshlands here just as they did elsewhere along the river.

Today, looking over the water at the homes at Granville Ferry, across the river, we can see the ruins of docks built on Hogg Island in the late 1700s and 1800s after the English occupied the region following the Acadian expulsion in 1755.

This area was later selected for docks because it was convenient for manufacturing and shipping, just the same as it was for Jacques Bourgeois.

The river is tidal, and it’s easy to see that it’s not high tide.

During my visit to my mother’s ancestors’ homeland, I wore her ring as a way to take her along with me. Here, “Mom” is visiting Jacques Bourgeois, with the Levron and Doucet properties in view across the river.

If not initially, eventually, everyone is Acadia was related to everyone else.

Did Jacques live on this knoll, above the scrub, near the end of Hogg Island?

The tide moves rapidly in this river. Not understanding a temperamental tidal river claimed the lives of many.

As I reached the end of the island, where it begin to curve to the right, I realized that the sun was beginning to set.

What a stunning golden-hour picture. I hope Jacques loved it here as he viewed the works of Mother Nature’s paintbrush.

While I actually wanted to continue walking, the path was increasingly obstructed by modernity, because we were approaching the area of the power plant, and I didn’t want my visit to Jacques’ world to be interrupted by the 21st century.

I turned around and began meandering back. I wanted to walk out on the ruined wharf, but it looked treacherous, and the tide was coming in, plus the mud. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going and decided that I really shouldn’t tempt fate.

The sun began to set in earnest, and my ancestors put on quite the show. In this panoramic photo, you can see the path, the shoreline, the sunset, of course, and the shore across the river.

No one, not one single Acadian, had moved here because of Acadia’s beauty. They wouldn’t have even known about that, but Acadia is breathtaking.

Jacques would have seen this exact view hundreds of times, in all types of weather.

Jeanne Trahan would have breathed in the beauty of these sunsets as the sun began it’s nightly journey behind the mountains.

Their children would have glimpsed this beauty over the distant hills, perhaps as they pulled a final bucket of water from the well for the night.

The traders, be they French, English or Indian would have wanted to tie up before the sun slipped behind the hills, and darkness descended.

Canoes and small boats would have been pulled up onto the shore, safely above the tide line.

Larger boats would have been tied to the dock or anchored, or both.

Wares to trade would have been unloaded here.

Different merchandise would be loaded back onto the boats after deals were struck, meals eaten, and perhaps a day or two spent exchanging news and resting.

Larger ships probably needed a wharf. One existed near the fort, but Jacques, being a wealthy man, probably had his own, especially if he was a shipbuilder.

Standing here, drinking in the raw beauty, I couldn’t help but think that eventually, Jacques would see one final sunset from his beloved Hogg Island.

Perhaps they took this for granted – just part of everyday life in Acadia.

It’s peaceful today, but Jacques would have witnessed English warships sailing up this river. Fortunately for him, he lived beyond the fort, so perhaps slightly safer.

On the other hand, Jacques traded with the English. It’s difficult to know whether that was an advantage, or disadvantage, with whom, and when. Life in Acadia was not straightforward, and the politics were much like the tidal river – complex and always changing.

Perhaps Jacques wandered the shore as the sun set, praying or pondering.

Did he wonder from time to time if he had made the right decision about something?

Opportunties that he had taken, and ones that he hadn’t?

Was he glad that he left France?

Did he ever think about an alternate life that he might have lived there?

Did Jacques enjoy the waterfowl in the shallows, or was he too busy to notice?

Did he commit these stunning summer sunsets to memory to sustain him through the interminable, grey winters?

Did he even consider the notion that his 8 times great grandchildren would make their way back to Hogg Island to say his name and watch these sunsets “with” him?

As the sun set, did Jacques sometimes wonder if the sun was setting on Acadia?

Did he ever wonder if his descendants would see the same thing?

Jacques would soak in the elixir of these sunsets for nearly 60 years.

Was Acadia his passion, or just his business? Or maybe, some of both?

In less time than Jacques lived in Acadia, another 55 years, most of his grandchildren, would collectively watch one final sunset before they were loaded onto waiting ships and removed from their beloved homeland.

Had he understood their eventual fate, would he have left La Rochelle that fateful May day in 1641?

D’Aulnay’s Death

On May 24, 1650, Jacques’ benefactor, Charles d’Aulnay drowned in a boating accident in the icy waters in the Port Royal basin, signaling a turning point for both Acadia and Jacques.

Jacques appears to have been d’Aulnay’s second in command. In his 1699 deposition, Jacques stated that after d’Aulnay’s death, he had been entrusted with all of “the titles of honour, of grants and commissions that Mr. D’Aulnay had received from his Majesty,” and that he had entrusted them to a Mr. Nelson in Boston to have them bounded properly. Jacques never got them back.

Ironically, in 1692, John Nelson, the man in question, attempted to lay claim to all of Acadia as a nephew and heir of Sir Thomas Temple and in whose right he claimed the proprietorship of Acadia under an old grant of Oliver Cromwell. This might well have had something to do with his failure to return d’Aulnay’s land titles and other documents to Jacques, but I digress.

However, this does illustrate the degree of misplaced trust Jacques had in the English in Boston.

In a rather amazing twist of fate, three years later, in February 1653, Jacques Bourgeois stood as a witness to the marriage of Acadia’s next Governor, Charles La Tour, and Jeanne Motin de Reux, the widow of former Governor Charles d’Aulnay.

Yes, you read that right!

Given what happened in 1645 to La Tour’s wife, at the hands of d’Aulnay, those years must have been very tense, to say the least.

If you just said, “Wait! What?” and are shaking your head in disbelief, you’re not alone. I still can’t wrap my head around this, given that d’Aulnay killed La Tour’s men and wife, and Jacques was almost assuredly along on that endeavor. Both d’Aulnay and La Tour’s wife must have been rotating in their respective graves.

The marriage was determined to be in the best interest of Acadia by all parties. While in some ways, it was a marriage of mutual convenience and benefit, it wasn’t only that – given that they had children.

While a tentative peace had settled over Acadia, it wouldn’t last long.

1654 – Hostage

Life changed dramatically in Acadia in 1654.

The Acadians had been trading with the English, so they were familiar with Port Royal, its layout, and the residents.

The English attacked Port Royal, but it was rather spontaneous, not planned in advance.

Nicolas Denys reported that Robert Sedgewick of Boston had been ordered by Oliver Cromwell to attack New Holland (New York). As Sedgewick prepared, a peace treaty was signed between the English and the Dutch.

Sedgewick commanded 200 of Cromwell’s professional soldiers, plus 100 New England volunteers, and was now all prepared, but with no battle to wage.

Since Sedgewick was “all dressed up with nowhere to go,” he attacked various locations in Acadia in August 1654 and destroyed most of the settlements, even though it was peacetime. This included Castine in Maine, Port Royal, La Hève, and at the Saint John River where he took Charles La Tour prisoner.

I swear, this feels like a soap opera.

The Acadians clearly had not been expecting this turn of events.

Sedgewick sailed up the Riviere Dauphin to Port Royal in July 1654, facing about 130 Acadian men and soldiers who valiantly attempted to defend the fort. Not only were the brave Acadians outnumbered, more than two to one, but the 200 English soldiers were professionals.

The Acadians did their best and holed up in the fort, but the English held them and Port Royal under siege.

On August 16th, Germain Doucet de La Verdure surrendered to the English, having negotiated what the Acadians felt were reasonable surrender terms that provided at least some protection. The French settlers were to keep their land and belongings, the French soldiers in the fort were to be paid in pelts and transported back to France, not killed, and the Acadians could worship as they saw fit – meaning as Catholics – without interference. The French officials would also be sent back to France, and an Acadian council was put in place to function on behalf of the English during their absence.

Those terms could have been much worse since both the English and the French knew very well that the Acadians stood no prayer of winning against the English who both outnumbered them and were far more experienced.

The conclusion to the Articles of Capitulation was this:

It was concluded on board the Admiral’s ship, the Augustia, anchored in the river and before the fort of Port Royal, “and for the greater security of the contents of the above articles the said Sieur de la Verdure has left for hostage Jacques Bourgeois, his brother-in-law and lieutenant of the place, bearer of his procuration for the present treaty, and the Sieur Emanuel le Borgne, the son, until the completion of the present agreement which was begun at the first sitting held yesterday and concluded today, August 16th, 1654.

This document was signed by Jacques with only his surname, but I have been unable to find the original document in the archives.

Brenda Dunn, in her book, A History of Port-Royal-Annapolis-Royal, 1605-1800, reports that in violation of the negotiated terms of surrender, the English soldiers rampaged wildly through the town afterwards, including through the monastery and newly constructed church, smashing windows, doors, paneling, and even the floor before torching it all. This is par for the course, and we know they behaved in this way multiple other times.

Sedgewick then departed from what was left of Port Royal, leaving an Acadian council he had appointed in charge. Through this, we have learned that Jacques, by then about 35, was second in command – a lieutenant, at Port Royal.

This must have been somewhat awkward, or maybe not. Jacques traded regularly with the New Englanders out of Boston. He had also become a successful merchant, farmer, and shipbuilder. His fur trading with the Indians took him to every corner of the colony.

While he was clearly very successful, I do wonder, though, if his trading with the English, followed by being left as second in command by them caused some of his neighbors to cast a suspicious eye in his direction.

For the next 16 years, Acadian life continued in this pattern.

So long as they were undisturbed, the Acadians were content to follow their Catholic faith, plant their crops, raise their families, and continue with the seasonal rhythms of life on the banks of the beautiful Rivière Dauphin.

Yes, they lived under the English, but there would have been some trade benefits – and no one seemed to care much so long as they were primarily left alone.

1671 Census

In 1667, Acadia was returned to France by treaty. A new French Governor arrived in 1670, and ordered Acadia’s first census.

It’s on this census that Jacques, listed as Jacob, is noted as a chirurgien as well as on his daughter, Marie’s second marriage record in 1680 in Beaubassin.

  • Jacob Bourgeois is age 50
  • Jeanne Trahan, his wife, is age 40

One son and daughter are married and listed elsewhere in the census

  • Jeanne is 27 and living at home
  • Charles is 25 (married)
  • Germain is 21
  • Marie is 18 or 19 (married, age given differently)
  • Guillaume is 16
  • Marguerite is 13
  • Francoise is 12
  • Anne is 10
  • Marie is 7
  • Jeanne is 4

Jacques has 33 cattle, 24 sheep, and 20 arpents of land in two different locations.

Everyone else has between zero and 16 arpents of land, with several families having 6 arpents, which seems to be the norm.

Jacques is clearly the most prosperous man in Acadia.

By age 50, many men, especially men who were clearly comfortable, would have relaxed and enjoyed their life along the bucolic river, watching those spectacular sunsets.

But not Jacques.

In fact, the following year, in 1672, Jacques Bourgeois gathered his resources, including several family members, began preparations, and set out for yet another frontier.

Beaubassin

Jacques reportedly sold a part of his holdings at Port-Royal and, with his two older sons and two of his sons-in-law, pioneered the Acadian settlement of Mésagouèche, later Missaguash, then eventually renamed Beaubassin, on the isthmus of Chignecto.

Beaubassin represented “the first swarming of the Acadians to establish their hive,” as one historian describes it.

Join me, and Jacques for incredible adventures in Beaubassin in my next article.

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6 thoughts on “Jacques Bourgeois (c1620-c1700), Surgeon of Port Royal – 52 Ancestors #449

  1. Finally we share an ancestor! Thanks so much for the extensive treatment of Jacques Bourgeois and for all the other information you have so generously shared over the years. I’m loving it.

  2. Marc Bourgeois, a genealogist who is a native French speaker was kind enough to provide a better translation of the 1642 ship’s roster that includes Jacques Bourgeois. I’ve updated the roster in the article with his changes.

    You can see the all of the known ship rosters at this link: https://web.archive.org/web/20220818012721/https:/www.naviresnouvellefrance.net/html/pages16401642.html#pages16401642

    Additionally, Marc is retranslating all of the rosters and will provide them on his website, here: https://histoire-de-bourgeois.ca/

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