François Broussard (1653-1716), Intractable Acadian – 52 Ancestors #463

François Broussard was born about 1653, probably in France. If he was born in Acadia, neither of his parents nor any siblings survived to the first Acadian census in 1671. Neither is François present in that census, so there is speculation that he arrived in 1671 aboard the ship, L’Oranger, with about 60 other young colonists.

No French settlers arrived from 1654, when Acadia fell to the English, until 1670 when Acadia was returned to French control, so growth in Acadia during that time only occurred by virtue of marriage and children being born. After regaining control, the French wasted no time beginning to repopulate their colony, and new settlers were sent shortly thereafter.

L’Oranger was provisioned by Elie de Laussay in La Rochelle and sailed to Acadia, captained by Guillaume Herutain. We know the ship arrived and returned, but no crew or passenger list has ever surfaced.

Based on correspondence to Acadian Governor Hector d’Andigne de Grandfontaine, dated March 11, 1671, from Jean-Baptiste Colbert, France’s Minister of State (aka Prime Minister), Grandfontaine is informed that he will receive 30 young men and 30 young women of the same age in Acadia. A month earlier, in February, Colbert, in a letter to Jean Talon, the Intendant of New France, mentioned the “boys and girls who will pass this year to the country,” meaning Acadia.

While we have no factual information about François Broussard’s origins, it stands to reason that he originated in or near La Rochelle, like most of the other Acadians. Colbert’s letter indicates that François, about age 18, would have been a good fit for this group of setters. At that age, he would have been considered a young man, capable of hard work, but not yet of typical marriage age.

François is not recorded in the 1671 census. We don’t know when the census was taken, nor when L’Oranger arrived.

We do know that François was in Acadia in 1672, because he purchased clothing belonging to René Bonin. This suggests that he probably arrived with little and was doing well – at least well enough to buy clothes.

In June of 1673, the Acadians in Port Royal, now Annapolis Royal, gathered to plan the financing of a Catholic church. Five years later, on October 30, 1678, the parish of Saint John the Baptist was officially established.

Marriage to Catherine Richard

The church that was new in 1678 is marked by a small stone monument today, on top of the fort’s ramparts that were constructed above the burned church in 1701 during the fort’s expansion.

It would either have been here, in the new church, or maybe in the adjacent priest’s home, that François Broussard, about 25, and Catherine Richard, his 15-year-old bride, were married. Young marriages were not uncommon for Acadian daughters.

The 1678 Acadian census shows François Brossard and Catherine Richard, with no children, no land, and five cattle. They had clearly been married less than a year. One or more of those cows may well have been Catherine’s dowry.

Based on their neighbors in the census, it looks like the young couple was living in the town of Port Royal, because known residents, such as the Pellerins and military engineer, Jean Labat, are their neighbors.

Next door, we find Michel Richard and Madeleine Blanchard, Catherine Richard’s parents, but they aren’t listed with any family. Next to that entry, we find Germain Doucet and Marie Landry, and then, Michel Richard, without his wife’s name, but with Catherine’s siblings.

By the 1686 census, François Broussard and Catherine Richard were well established. François is listed as age 33, so born about 1653, and Catherine is 22. They have 3 children, Magdelaine 5, Pierre 3, and a baby girl who is only 11 days old and has not yet been baptized. They own 1 gun, 7 cattle, 6 sheep and 5 hogs. It’s quite unusual, but they don’t have any land shown.

They are listed next to Claude Dugas who lived southwest of Port Royal along the banks of the Riviere Du Port Royal. Based on others in the census, the census-taker may have been crossing back and forth across the river in his canoe.

In 1686, Labat, seeking to encourage settlement and development of the town of Port Royal, drew and submitted a map showing the waterfront homes, which were mostly merchants and administrators, and other homes along the “path to the cape.” Labat himself lived in town along the waterfront, as did Pellerin, so it’s probable that François Broussard lived here at this time, although we know he moved upriver later.

It’s important to note that the map’s legend states that the fort is “ruined.” The fort had fallen into nearly complete disrepair, with the walls down and the enceinte open. None of the fort’s 18 cannons were mounted. In other words, the fort was entirely vulnerable to attack and could neither defend itself nor protect Port Royal.

By 1688, France and England were at war again, fueling clashes and raids in the New England colonies, especially along and near the borders with French territory.

The 1690 Attacks

1690 in Acadia was a watershed year. François would have been about 37 years old, with a wife and several young children, when his world changed forever.

The English, of course, knew that Port Royal was essentially undefended.

Unfortunately, that was a colossal blunder for France.

As tensions escalated and raids increased in the colonies, Sir William Phips, a native of Maine, was commissioned to lead attacks against Acadia out of Boston. Phips, with seven ships and around 700 men, sailed towards Port Royal, which was defended by only between 70 and 90 men, all of whom were sharing just 19 muskets.

To say they were outnumbered is an understatement.

The Acadians were caught entirely off guard. Acadian Governor Meneval later reported that upon the English fleet being spotted in the river on May 19th, he sounded a cannon to summon Acadian men to report to the fort for help, but only three arrived. Forty-two were absent from the area, probably hunting or fishing, and the remaining men were either too far distant to hear the cannon, or chose not to respond.

Meneval made the only reasonable decision possible, under the circumstances. He chose to surrender, albeit with reasonable terms, because there was no chance of survival if they attempted to fight.

After obtaining Meneval’s surrender, and promising NOT to plunder the town, take or damage the property of the residents, the English went on a rampage for days – doing exactly what they swore not to do.

The English soldiers reportedly burned at least a dozen homes in Port Royal and possibly as many as 30 or 35. They did spare the mills and did not attack the upriver farms. While that sounds benevolent, it wasn’t. Their ships drafted too deeply to sail upriver, and exposing themselves in unfamiliar terrain would have been foolhardy, and assuredly, deadly.

Their treatment of the Catholic church, which stood beside the ruined fort in Port Royal must have both sickened and angered the Acadians. The English soldiers, according to their own documents, desecrated the church by cutting down the cross, rifling the building, and breaking religious images. They took the tabernacle, sacred vessels, and everything else they could find, including the clerical gowns.

The Acadian men were rounded up, brought to the church, and forced to sign a loyalty oath to the English King.

François was illiterate, as were most Acadian men, but having no choice, he signed his name with a mark. While most men signed with a simple “+”, François signed with something that looks like a cross on top of something else. I don’t know if he was “saying” something with the cross. Maybe he made a mistake and wrote over it, or perhaps this was his “normal” signature, or he was outright angry. His “cross” was made with multiple heavy marks and is more distinct and stands out more than any other signature mark on the document.

When the English finally left, they took the French soldiers from the garrison and the French administration with them, as had been agreed, although they were supposed to be transported back to France. In addition, they took both priests, Father Petit and Father Trouvé, as prisoners. The priests very likely took the signed oath document with them, secreted beneath their garb, as protection for the Acadians, proving that they had indeed signed and promised loyalty – even if it had been under duress and through gritted teeth. This would explain why the document was found in the Massachusetts Archives several years ago.

A year later, in 1691, the governor of French Canada was still trying unsuccessfully to negotiate the freedom of 60 French prisoners taken during the siege. It’s unclear if they were all soldiers, plus the priests and administrators, or if some Acadians were taken and held too.

The English had never intended to keep any of the promises made in the surrender terms. It’s no wonder that Phips refused to sign the document that he had negotiated and agreed to.

We don’t know what the Acadian church looked like, other than Labat’s map drawings, but there is a church in Montreal, the Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours, founded in 1675. The architecture may be similar since they were built about the same time.

Next, Pirates Arrive

A few weeks after the devastating attack in June of 1690, English “pirates” raided Port Royal, perhaps twice. Some reports indicated that the “pirates” were sent from Boston to check on the Acadians to see if they were complying. Regardless of why they arrived, they stole anything that was left, killed the livestock out of pure spite, burned nearly everything else, including the church, and killed some inhabitants. At least two men were hanged, their families locked in their homes, which were set afire, burning them to death.

The Acadians must have been terrified and constantly on guard. This wasn’t a military attack, directed at taking, then administering the land. This was an attack on the residents themselves, bent solely on destruction. Maybe it was a tongue-in-cheek warning to the Acadians. Behave, or else.

Needless to say, any prayer of a good, or even luke-warm trade relationship with the English was out of the question. All trust in their former trading partners had been destroyed permanently.

Ironically, the only reason they had begun trading with the English in the first place was because France had essentially abandoned its colonies.

Was François’s home burned in 1690? If he was living in the town of Port Royal, he almost assuredly lost his home, but he didn’t lose his life or family. François had probably sent his wife and children somewhere for safety – perhaps up in the hills, perhaps to BelleIsle or someplace else upriver.

1693 – The English Return

In the 1693 census, understanding the devastation that Port Royal experienced in 1690, I fully expected François Broussard to be living upriver, but he isn’t.

I don’t know if he’s stubborn, recalcitrant, or optimistic.

François is now 39, so born about 1654, wife Catherine, 29, Marie 11, Pierre, 9, Marie 7 (the newborn baby in 1686), and Catherine-Josephe 3, who would have been born in 1690. François is now farming 7 arpents of land and has 15 cattle, 20 sheep, 16 hogs, and 1 gun.

Surprisingly, François is still living in Port Royal, between Estienne Pellerin who owned Hogg Island, and Jean Labat.

The Acadians still weren’t safe from the English. Even though they were officially under English rule, the Acadians continued to engage with the French. Of course, that was broadly considered privateering by the English, not to mention that the notorious French pirate, Pierre Maisonnat dit Baptiste, had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the Acadians in 1690, and remained living at Port Royal, married to 16-year-old Magdeleine Bourg, in 1693.

The English got word of this ongoing “nefarious” activity and returned to Port Royal in May of 1693 to mete out punishment. Much like 1690, they raided the town, slaughtered livestock, burned homes and barns full of grain. They did not attack the fort itself, as the fort was now “English.” This attack was clearly punitive in nature, targeted at the Acadian citizens.

The English underestimated Acadian resolve.

Moving Up to the East Side

In 1697, Acadia was returned to French control through the Treaty of Ryswick.

In the 1698 census, François is 45, so born about 1653, Catherine is 35, and they now have seven children. Additionally, they have a servant whose name is not given, two guns, and they live on 16 arpents of cultivatable land with two fruit trees, 15 cattle, 20 sheep, and 14 hogs. The family is doing quite well and is farming about twice as much land as the normal Acadian family, and about twice what they had in previous years.

Sometime between 1693 and 1698, François and family moved upriver. We can tell, because, among other clues, they are living beside Françoise Goudet (Gaudet), the 80-year-old widow of Daniel LeBlanc, who lived just northeast of BelleIsle.

Land, and more importantly, saltmarsh to dyke, reclaim and farm, is much more plentiful upriver than in the town of Port Royal. François went from farming 7 arpents of land to 16

I can’t help but wonder if the 1690 depredations, followed by the 1693 attack, precipitated this move. I’d be amazed if it didn’t weigh into the decision to relocate.

The town of Port Royal, beside the fort, was an obvious target, but the tidal, winding river, full of rocks, protected the upriver residents from approach by the sea.

The 1698 census is confusing and may not have been recorded in procession order, because in 1700, they are right back between Jean Labat and Etienne Pellerin. It’s also possible that they had land in two places.

In the summer of 2024, I returned to Acadia and stood on the upriver land where François Broussard established his homestead that was named Beausoleil, or “beautiful sun”, in English..

Using the contemporaneous maps, I was able to approximate where François lived. Using Hebb’s landing and other landmarks, combined with aerial views, we know that François lived in this area.

François’s sons would have built homes on his land and helped their father farm, especially as François aged.

It’s often possible to discern archaeological sites and soil disruptions using aerial views. This area, with its unique coloration and shapes, is a candidate for François’s homestead and those of his children.

François’s land would have extended onto this peninsula stretching into the river bend, which probably explains why he had so much land.

Saltmarsh has to be dyked and drained for about three years to rid the land of salt before cultivating.

Reclaimed marshland is still some of the most productive in Atlantic Canada today.

Standing at Hebb’s Landing, looking upriver at the Broussard land, at left, the peninsula in the river bend is visible.

Looking across at the land on the far shore of the river from François’s land. In Acadia, the river was a road, not a barrier.

In the 1700 census, François, listed as Jean, is 46, so born about 1654, Catherine is 36, and they now have nine children, ages 2 to 16. They are farming 15 arpents of land, own a gun, 24 cattle, and 26 sheep. Their eldest child has married.

This name suggests that his baptismal name is probably Jean-François Broussard or Brossard.

Chipoudy

François collaborated with Pierre Thibodeau, a miller, who established the new Acadian settlement of Chipoudy between 1698 and 1700. François’s son, Pierre, went with Thibodeau to Chipoudy, scouted a lot for his father, and began clearing it for a settlement. François and his wife apparently visited, were delighted, but apparently never made the move.

Or did they?

François’s friend, Pierre, apparently returned from Chipoudy, or never actually settled there, because he is listed as living across the river from BelleIsle at Pre Ronde, today’s Round Hill.

Perhaps the men traveled to the new frontier, and their wives and children remained to keep the homefires burning in Port Royal.

Today, this marker and one of Pierre’s mill stones mark his mill’s location at Pre Ronde. François would have spent time here.

Beausoleil

In the 1701 Port Royal census, François Brousart (sic) is 48, so born about 1653, Catherine is 38, and they have eight children. Now they own 5 guns, quite an increase, live on 10 arpents of land with 10 cattle, 18 sheep, and 17 hogs. They are listed with neighbors of both Blanchard and Leblanc, indicating that they are living upriver at Beausoleil.

This map, taken at the LeBlanc family monument on LeBlanc land shows the location of the LeBlanc family village in the upper left corner, the St. Laurent Church, shown on early maps as the “Mass House”, Hebb’s Landing, and Jean Brussard’s land, at right.

The fields and mountains behind these Acadian homes are beautiful too.

Looking back, towards the hills from the LeBlanc village marker. This is the golden summertime view François would have witnessed. Beausoleil, indeed!

In the 1703 census, François has reached the half-century mark and is age 50, placing his birth in 1653. Catherine is now 40, and they have eight children at home. Only one arms-bearer is listed, presumably François. Their oldest son, Pierre, is now 20 and lives at home, so I’m surprised he isn’t listed as an arms-bearer as well. The family only has one gun, so perhaps that is why.

The English – Again, and Again

In the summer of 1707, the English blockaded Port Royal, twice. The first blockade occurred in June, followed by the second in late August. Both lasted a couple of weeks, then failed, but on June 7th, as the English were being expelled, they torched at least two dozen homes in Port Royal once again.

This time, Labatt drew a map, which is dated 1708, which details the locations of the homes in and just south of Port Royal on the cape. François Broussard is not among them, so the family clearly is not living in the town.

Where is François?

The Broussard family was apparently missed in the 1707 census, or was living elsewhere. Based on his absence at Port Royal, and the fact that he was farming 15 arpents of land by 1698, it’s safe to say they weren’t living in the town of Port Royal – but where were they?

Based on later information, I think François was in Chipoudy, present-day Shepody, NB, in 1707, which was not included in the census. Chipoudy wasn’t terribly far from Beaubassin, maybe 20 miles by water.

Acadia Falls Permanently

In October of 1710, when the English returned, yet again, François was about 56 years old. While the 1707 sieges had failed, this one would not. Upwards of 35 English warships carried more than 2000 men, including some professional soldiers, to face just 300, hungry, neglected, and ill-equipped Acadian and French soldiers, 20 unfortunate Quebecois who happened to be visiting, and a few Mi’kmaq warriors. The French soldiers hadn’t been paid in years, nor had the soldiers or Acadians been supplied.

Even if you add every Acadian man and boy above 15 to the mix, you’ve only added 100 to the defensive force. There were many times more English soldiers than the entire Acadian population, including women and children, which only totaled about 570 people.

The Acadians didn’t stand a chance.

After doing their best to defend the fort and town for eight days, facing impossible odds, the best the Acadians could do was to obtain reasonable surrender terms and save themselves from being slaughtered.

In addition to being allowed to march out of the fort, flags flying and drums beating, before handing the keys to the English, the soldiers and Acadians were not to be harmed.

The Acadians retained the right to worship as Catholics, their personal property, and those who lived within cannon-shot of the fort – about 3 miles – could stay for 2 years IF they signed an unconditional oath of allegiance. They had two years to remove their moveable items to another French-held location.

The 3-mile delineation covered about 481 Acadians. Three months later, by mid-January, only 57 had begrudgingly signed.

The terms left the Acadians beyond 3 miles, which included François Broussard, who lived about 10 miles distant from Port Royal, northeast of BelleIsle, in limbo.

Did that mean those Acadians didn’t have to take the oath, and didn’t have to remove? What did it mean, exactly?

Of course, knowing the Acadians, they did everything possible to skirt the requirement to move from the land they had developed for decades. Where would they go? How would they get there, and how would they support their families? Yet, they weren’t about to take that despised oath, potentially having to fight against their own countrymen, their allies, and family members in the Native community.

1711 – A Year of Darkness

Winter descended on Port Royal shortly after the English took possession. Food shortages developed for the English soldiers at the fort, and assuredly, the Acadians were in no mood to feed them.

Between death, disease and desertion, there were only about 250 English soldiers left at the garrison, and none of them wanted to be there.

Samuel Vetch, the British Commander, considered the Acadians intractable, because they were, and wore it like a badge of honor. Based on how François was treated, I would gather he was probably one of the leaders.

I admire his spunk and resolve!

In early 1711, François was one of several residents of the haute rivière, or upper river, who were jailed by Vetch. It’s unclear exactly when this happened, but Vetch returned to Boston in January to essentially beg for food and supplies for his 450 men stationed at the fort in Port Royal.

The Acadians and their allies, the Mi’kmaq, clearly understood the precarious position that the English found themselves in and were becoming openly hostile. Vetch was eventually able to obtain some supplies, but when he returned to Annapolis Royal, the now renamed Port Royal, sometime in the spring, he found that his legions had shrunk by more than half to just over 200 very discouraged soldiers.

Did Vetch jail François and the others either before he left for Boston, or after his return? Maybe Vetch decided that if the jailed Acadians weren’t being fed, it would encourage the Acadians to supply the English soldiers.

Is there more to this story?

Yes, indeed, there is!

In an act of defiance, the Acadians rebelled!

Who’s surprised? Not me!

Battle of Bloody Creek

François Broussard lived about a mile and a half downriver, toward the fort, from Bloody Creek, as the seagull flies.

Bloody Creek was so named after a battle on June 21, 1711 where between 50 and 150 “Wabanaki warriors” ambushed about 70 English soldiers as they traveled upriver, near the mouth of what would come to be called Bloody Creek. Sixteen soldiers were killed and nine injured. The rest were captured, and at least some had to pay ransom for their release.

This success greatly emboldened the Acadians and their Indian counterparts – fueling hope that they could reverse their losses.

Buoyed to about 600 Indian and Acadian men, they attempted to retake the fort.

Unfortunately, they had no heavy weapons and could not effectively launch an attack. The effort was abandoned when English reinforcements arrived.

The sequence of events is unclear, but about this time, several Acadians were arrested for capturing an English soldier. Those involved were:

  • Guillaume Bourgeois of Port Royal
  • Jean Comeau of Port Royal
  • Pierre LeBlanc of Port Royal
  • Germain Bourgeois of Beaubassin
  • François Broussard of Chipoudy

François Broussard was not known to be from Chipoudy, but he could well have gone there for some time, intending to develop land there, and stay.

This also explains why he was missing in the 1707 census, and this information tells us he was still in Chipoudy in 1710 or 1711. He was probably going back and forth based on the fact that his children were marrying in Port Royal, but François was obviously considered at that time to be “of Chipoudy.”

  • In 1702 François Broussard, or at least his family, was in Port Royal, because his daughter Marie Broussard married Rene Doucet. They remained in Port Royal, but lived across the river from the fort.
  • In 1704, François was probably in Port Royal, because his eldest daughter, Madeleine Broussard, married Pierre Landry there, although they moved north, because several of their children were born in Pisiguit.
  • Missing in 1707 census in Port Royal area
  • In 1708, daughter Catherine Josephe Broussard married Charles Landry in Port Royal and lived their lives there in this area.
  • In 1709, his son, Pierre Broussard married Marguerite Bourg in Port Royal. Pierre remained at Port Royal until about 1720, when he relocated to Isle Royal, today’s Cape Breton.
  • François is found in the 1714 census in Port Royal.
  • In 1714, daughter Elisabeth Broussard married Pierre Bourg in Port Royal, and died in December of 1718 there.
  • François died in Port Royal.
  • François’ namesake child, François Broussard, born about 1695, died at Port Royal in November of 1717.
  • Claude Broussard married Anne Babin in 1718 in Grand Pre, although, based on the births of their children, and Claude’s later remarriage in Port Royal, they seemed to go back and forth.
  • Alexandre Broussard dit Beausoleil married Marguerite Thibodeau in 1724 in Port Royal, but their children beginning in 1728 were born in Chipoudy and Petitcoudiac.
  • Joseph Broussard dit Beausoleil married Agnes Thibodeau, sister of Marguerite, in 1725 in Port Royal. The following year, he was accused of fathering a child with another woman, a charge he denied. Nevertheless, he spent time in jail for refusing to provide support before settling, with his wife, at Chipoudy.
  • Jean-Baptiste Broussard married Cecile Babin about 1728, probably in Port Royal where they spent their lives.

The only other person that François Broussard, who was arrested in 1711 for capturing the English soldier, could have been was his son by the same name. However, the younger François Broussard was just a boy, born about 1695, and would not have been capturing a soldier and being arrested at age 15 or 16.

We don’t know how long François was held, or under what conditions.

Beaubassin where Germain Bourgeois lived, and Chipoudy, where François Broussard was from, aren’t far distant. They probably arrived back in Acadia on the same ship, although we don’t know when.

However, Germain never returned home.

According to the parish register, he died in Port Royal while the priest, Justin Durand, was held in captivity in Boston.

One of Germain’s descendants reported he was held in complete and absolute darkness in the old powder magazine at the fort, known as the Black Hole, and died as a result.

This is the face of the Black Hole, going down. This is what François would have seen, assuming he was jailed there.

Was Guillaime dead, and François mad, when he emerged? How long was he held there?

What a horrific form of torture.

Father Durand was exchanged for English prisoners and returned to Acadia at the end of 1711. Upon his return, he wrote in the parish register that Germain had died during his captivity in Boston.

We know nothing more about François Broussard until 1714.

In the 1714 census in Port Royal, François Broussard is only listed as “Broussard”, with a wife and 5 sons. Although it does not explicitly state his first name or his wife’s name, he is the only Broussard candidate who fits this description. He is enumerated beside a Richard family, and Pierre LeBlanc, one of the other men arrested in 1711 for capturing the British soldier, is his neighbor on the other side.

François died just two years later.

The Apple Doesn’t Fall Far from the Tree

Depiction of Joseph Broussard, Oil on canvas by Herb Roe  https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Joseph_Broussard_en_Acadia_HRoe_2009.jpg

All things considered, it’s not surprising that two of François’s sons, Alexandre Broussard dit Beausoleil, born about 1699, and more particularly, Joseph Broussard, dit Beausoleil, born about 1702 became legendary freedom fighters and Acadian folk heroes during the 1755 Expulsion.

Joseph Broussard, who died in 1765 in Louisiana, was recognized as one of the bravest and most enterprising Acadians and is still revered today. As children, these sons would have witnessed what happened to their father, and their people. Specifically, they would have been about 9 and 12 when their father was arrested and probably held in the Black Hole.

They tried, unsuccessfully, to prevent the Expulsion of the Acadians from their beloved Acadia in 1755. Fighting to the bitter end, Colonel William Foster wrote of Joseph, one of the last Acadians still resisting, “ These people are Spirited up in their obstinacy by one BeauSoleil . . .”

Even when reduced to famine in the winter of 1761, and having to surrender or die, Joseph Broussard continued to be sand in the cogs of the English gears whenever he could.

Altogether, he spent nearly a decade fighting a lost cause and surviving in the woods, protecting his family as best he could. Two of his adult children would not survive.

Eventually, in 1764, Joseph managed to charter a schooner to Hispanola, taking several other Acadian resisters with him. However, he was not prepared for the climate and tropical diseases that killed Acadians. Once again, Beausoleil, came to the rescue of his people, taking survivors to Louisiana in early 1765 aboard the ship, Santo Domingo.

They arrived on February 27th, and on April 8th, Joseph Broussard was appointed Captain of the Militia and Commandant of the Acadians in the Attackapas region. He saw at least 200 Acadians, future Cajuns, safely to Louisiana, but he died that September at Beausoleil, near present-day Broussard, LA, 49 years after his father died in Acadia when Joseph was 16 or 17 years old.

François would have been so proud of him!

François Broussard Dies

François Broussard was buried on the last day of December in 1716. He probably died either that day, during the night, or the day before. The priest, Justin Durand, knew him well, and the parish burial entry states that François was about 70 years old, which would have put his birth year at about 1646.

I would interpret this to mean “he was old,” but François was actually only about 63.

We know he had lived a difficult life.

The parish register does not say where he was buried, but we know unquestionably that there was a cemetery at the Mass House, and the Mass House was located between where François lived and Port Royal. Given that François died in the middle of winter, travel on the river would be treacherous, freezing cold, and the ground potentially frozen solid.

Furthermore, I doubt there was any way in Hell François was going to be buried at the English fort where the Acadian church used to be before the English burned it.

Within sight of the Black Hole.

Nope.

Nada.

That was never going to happen!

It would be much easier for his family members to attend if he were buried in the graveyard of the church where he worshipped, so I have absolutely no doubt that this is where François’s family gathered that New Year’s Eve to mourn his passing. I doubt that anyone felt like celebrating the following day.

François’ body would have been washed and dressed by Catherine and his family. The boys and neighbors probably quickly constructed a coffin, or perhaps they always had one ready in the neighborhood. Others would have dug the grave, or perhaps they dug several, just in case, before the ground froze in the fall.

The casket, carrying his earthly remains, would have been loaded onto a cart, similar to this one in Louisbourg, which would have been pulled by an ox to the church for François’ Requiem Mass.

The family would have walked the half mile or so to the church, meeting their neighbors along the way and at the church. The church was probably packed that day. François was assuredly an aged, beloved, community member who had tried, in vain, to save the Acadians from the English.

François’s oldest child was 26 and his youngest, just 12. His widow was 53 or 54 and would live the rest of her life without him, assuming the farm chores, at least until her sons were old enough to carry on.

Five of their children were already married, and two had removed to the Northern colonies.

Standing on François’s land, looking downriver, the Mass house would have been located on the land in the bend of the river, at right.

We can only approximate the church’s location from two 1700s maps today. The locations vary a bit.

The Mass House, aka St. Laurent Church, was located someplace very near this location, along with the cemetery, both now lost to time.

Still, François rests here.

Regardless of the exact location, this remains sacred Acadian ground, cradling the bones of our ancestors.

François Broussard’s grave may be lost to time, but his intractable, indomitable spirit still lives on his land near Hebb’s Landing, and in his descendants around the world.

A Possible Mother?

Several theories about François’s parents have been disproven, but one remains, based on a Catholic dispensation for consanguinity between Charles Broussard and Madeleine Leblanc. They were married in June of 1746 in Grand Pre.

According to the dispensation, they were third cousins on one side, and fourth cousins on the other, which means they shared great-grandparents on either the bride or groom’s side, and great-great-grandparents on the other person’s.

Charles is the grandson of François Broussard, which means François’s parents are Charles’s great-grandparents.

Broussard family researcher, Mitch Conover, postulated that François’s mother was a Doucet daughter who was unaccounted for. However, none are known.

His second possibility is that François’s mother was a daughter of Guillaume Trahan, who arrived with two children from France in 1636. Guillaume and his family first settled at La Hève, then moved on to Port Royal when d’Aulnay established his colony there, about that same time.

Daughter, Jeanne Trahan married Jacques Bourgeois. Guillaume Trahan’s other daughter was most likely married to Germain Doucet, the fort commander who returned to France in 1654 when Port Royal fell to the English. Evidence strongly suggests this marriage, but it is unproven.

No other daughters are known to have been born to Guillaume Trahan prior to his second marriage to Madeleine Brun about 1666, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t any. For François’s mother to have been Guillaume Trahan’s daughter, she would have had to have been born before 1638, given that François Broussard was born about 1653 or 1654.

Deceased Acadian historian, Stephen A. White, reduced the list of potential families to Gaudet, Bourgeois, Trahan, Comeau, and Bourg, then systematically eliminated several possibilities:

François Broussard could not have been the nephew of either Jacques Bourgeois or Pierre Comeau, the elder’s wife, Jeanne Bourg, because there were marriages without dispensations between Broussard’s children and close relatives of both of these individuals.

One may also exclude from consideration the Comeau family because Jeanne Bourg’s husband Pierre Comeau’s sisters were still too young, about 1653, the year of François Broussard’s birth, to have had a child.

The lack of a dispensation for kinship in the marriage record of François’s son Claude Broussard, when he married Jeanne Trahan’s granddaughter Marie Dugas (Rg PR 18 Nov 1754), takes away the possibility of a near link between François Broussard and Guillaume Trahan

It would thus appear that François Broussard’s mother could have been a sister of either Françoise Gaudet or Daniel LeBlanc, more likely of the former, because it is already known that there were other members of the Gaudet family in Acadia.

We know little about Daniel Leblanc’s origins, other than that he was in Acadia before d’Aulnay’s death in 1650. Daniel, born about 1626, married Françoise Gaudet about 1650. Her parents and at least three siblings settled in Acadia. There could easily have been an unknown daughter.

Let’s take a look at the ancestors of both the bride and groom using WikiTree’s Ancestors display. .

Madeleine LeBlanc has both Jean Gaudet and his unknown wife, and Guillaume Trahan and Françoise Corbineau in her tree as great-great-grandparents, consistent with a 4th degree dispensation.

Click any image to enlarge

However, when viewing the ancestors of Charles Broussard, we note that he, like his bride, shows Antoine Bourg and Antoinette Landry as ancestors. Madeleine shows them as great-great-grandparents, requiring a 4th degree dispensation, and Charles shows them as great-grandparents, requiring a 3rd degree dispensation.

These common ancestors for this couple would require a 3-4 dispensation, and that’s exactly what was given.

I have no idea how White missed these common ancestors between this couple.

Based on this evidence, there’s nothing to suggest the identity of the mother of François Broussard, unless Antoine Bourg and Antoinette Landry are incorrectly assigned in one of these trees. Otherwise, Antoine and Antoinette are reason that Michelle LeBlanc and Charles Broussard were given that dispensation.

We also have the issue of François Broussard’s absence in the 1671 census, although he could have been missed or living in someone’s household as a servant. It’s unclear whether single people were counted in any capacity. If 60 single people arrived in 1671 from France, it’s very unlikely that they had all married, and they are not listed in the census. Neither are 30 newlywed couples with no children. It’s possible that some debarked elsewhere in French Canada, or that the census was taken before the ship arrived.

So, François Broussard’s parents remain a mystery.

All things considered, I lean towards his birth in France and his arrival in Acadia as a young man in 1671. That said, he could still have descended from one of the Acadian families in France.

Perhaps more of his story is yet to be revealed.

_____________________________________________________________

Share the Love!

You’re always welcome to forward articles or links to friends and share on social media.

Subscribe!

If you haven’t already subscribed (it’s free,) you can receive an e-mail whenever I publish by clicking the “follow” button on the main blog page, here.

Help Keep This Blog Free

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase your price but helps me keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the affiliate links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Uploads

Genealogy Products and Services

My Books

Genealogy Books

Genealogy Research


Discover more from DNAeXplained - Genetic Genealogy

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

6 thoughts on “François Broussard (1653-1716), Intractable Acadian – 52 Ancestors #463

  1. My personal interest in Annapolis Royal and the Valley starts later than yours – the arrival of New England traders, British military contractors and, after the Expulsion, the Planters. But that said, it’s always interesting to read your Acadian chronicles, Roberta! A great blend of fact, research, analysis, and a modicum of speculation.

    I asked on another forum if any knew of the use of LIDAR in the Annapolis area to identify lost settlements, buildings, roads, and what all but received nothing firm in response. While ground penetrating radar has been used in the Garrison Cemetery with good results, do you have any thoughts on expanding research with LIDAR? I’d think it might be useful for finding some of the sites you have tentatively identified, and perhaps places of interest even to us Johnny-come-later types. Thoughts?

    • I’m sure you know that the two technologies are used for different purposes. Lidar uses lasers to map surface topography, and ground-penetrating radar is used to search for sub-surface features, such as graves and posts and such. One of the biggest issues is that, aside from the fort and a few select other locations, most of the land is privately owned. In many cases, the current owners don’t welcome the disruption of the actual process, nor of future notoriety. I’m sure that’s not true for everyone, but that, combined with a lack of funds and qualified individuals for this type of research would be two large hurdles to overcome. There’s also a massive area.

      • Agreed that the area of Acadian settlement is extensive but also concentrated close to the river, a point that your own research emphasizes. LIDAR is used from the air, however, and is no more intrusive on the property owners than any other plane flying overhead. It’s been used for decades to locate any kind of anomaly in the terrain such as those created by overgrown pyramids in Central America, long-disappeared walls, planted fields, and Roman roads, disappeared English villages, any kind of disturbed ground, etc. I believe ground penetrating radar has been used only around Fort Anne (i.e., the Garrison Cemetery) for a very specific purpose and where they knew something was to be found (e.g., Acadian burials). Seems almost a no-brainer to me in the Annapolis Valley. ;>)

  2. I was 82 before I knew of any of my Acadian heritage. You bring it to life.
    I appreciate all of your stories.

Leave a Reply