René Doucet was born about 1680 in Port Royal, Acadia, to Pierre Doucet and Henriette Pelletret.
René is often referred to with the dit name of dit Laverdure, but this appears to be incorrect. LaVerdure was initially assigned to him based on the belief that he was the grandson of Germain Doucet, Sieur de La Verdure, but he is not. Menou d’Aulnay states in his will that the Doucet children, including Pierre, René’s father, were Germain Doucet’s nieces and nephews, not his children. He was the child of Germain’s unknown brother.
The designation of “Sieur” typically was associated with a landowner or feudal lord. Sometimes it indicated minor nobility, or that he was the holder of a seigneurie, or feudal estate in France. In Acadia, Sieur de La Verdure probably means that Germain was a landholder someplace that resembled the word Verdure or the location of La Verdure in France, and others paid him rent to farm his land. The designation was probably not hereditary.
Therefore, I am not referring to René as “dit Laverdure,” although old habits die hard, and you may see him referred to as such in other places.
First Sightings in Acadia
René is not shown in the Port Royal 1678 census, but the names of children were not recorded – only their sex. Tim Hebert reconstructed the children in families based on future censuses and other records, except for the three-month-old male child.
Father Clarence D’Entremont (1909-1998) later correlated the 3-month-old male in the household with René. That child might be René or may well have been another child who died. We can’t simply assume it’s René, especially since we have multiple sources of evidence that conflict, indicating his birth year as 1680.
However, censuses have always been subject to error, and multiple censuses, in this case, clearly have issues. Still, it’s all we have before 1702 when the first surviving parish records begin.
In 1686, René’s place in the family is shown by the name Pierre who is 8 years old, which would suggest he’s that 3-year-old in 1678. This is confusing, given that another male, age 18, is also shown by the name of Pierre. No other male child in this family can be René. Other children’s names are also misspelled in this census.
René’s mother died sometime between 1686 and 1693, as his father is listed as a widower in 1693, leaving his father with children to raise. She could have died during the attacks of 1690. If so, that would probably have scarred René deeply.
In 1693, René is shown with his father and recorded as age 13, which means he was born about 1680.
He would have been someplace between about 8 and 13 when his mother passed away, and he wept at her graveside as she was buried. The church stood on this knoll before it was burned in 1690. The old Acadian graves are unmarked today.
In 1698, René is listed as age 18, again pointing to his birth in 1680.
In the 1700 census, he is shown as 20, and age 21 the following year, also suggesting his birth in 1680.
Married Life
René was married about 1701 or 1702 to Marie Broussard. The Port Royal parish registers still exist beginning in May of 1702. English incursions destroyed earlier records.
In the 1703 census, René is shown with his wife and one girl, although their oldest child was a boy, Pierre, not a girl. No ages are given. He’s noted as an arms bearer. I can’t tell exactly, based on the census order, where they lived, although they are listed between Abraham Dugast and Abraham Comeau, both of whom lived near Port Royal.
In 1707, René is shown with his wife, 1 boy less than 14, 1 girl less than 12, 4 arpents of land, 19 cattle, 17 sheep, 8 hogs and 1 gun. Note that the 1703 census erroneously recorded his first child, a son, who was Pierre, as a daughter.
In this census, René is living among a group of families who reside on the north side of the river, directly across from the fort. Some neighbor families lived across the river and slightly west of Port Royal. They include Abraham Bourg, three Granger families, René Doucet, Clement Vincent, Le bonhomme Nantois, which is the Levron family, then the Montagne (Lord/Lore) families begin who live on the north side of the river, a few miles east of Port Royal.
Their view of Port Royal probably looked much like it does today, with the fort ramparts visible at far right, and the houses and a dock in the center and at left. René’s mother’s family lived in one of those houses along the waterfront. His grandfather died long before he was born, but his grandmother, Perrine Bourg lived until between 1693 and 1698, so he would have known her well.
In 1710, René and his wife have 1 boy and 2 girls and are listed beside his father, Pierre Doucet. They are living beside neighbors Bourg, Grange(r), Pierre Broussar(d), Clement Vincent, and the Leveron family.
In 1714 they have 1 son and 3 daughters. They are on the list titled “Near the Fort,” and are still living in the same location, beside Laurent Grange or Granger, Pierre Broussard and Clement Vincent.
The Land
After René’s father, Pierre Doucet, died in 1713 at an advanced age, probably around 92, René would have taken over farming his father’s land. In actuality, he would have taken over the labor years before, probably in his teens. No man in his 80s can withstand the physical rigors of farming, especially not the dyke maintenance.
The dykes had to be shored up and maintained so that they drained the water outwards to drain the marshes and let no salty or brackish water backflow into the reclaimed land.
Most of René’s siblings made their way to Beaubassin and the Minas Basin area, which required the same type of farming, so they weren’t around to help Pierre as he aged.
Click on any image to enlarge
This 1686 map shows the location of the original fort on the spit of land on the right between the “Ro” and “yal.”. The placard mounted below this map in the museum in Port Royal says, “Very exact plan of the land where the houses of Port Royal are located and where a considerable town can be made, Franquelin, Jean-Baptiste, 1686.” The legend says that the fort is in ruins. “Un fort ruiné.”
Behind the fort, you can see the church that was burned four years later, in 1690, and the neatly fenced cemetery. The main road is still the main road, today.
Cleared areas and fields are visible directly across the river. Residents would have taken canoes and small boats back and forth regularly. You can see a man standing in the smaller boat and three other boats “parked” along the shoreline between the fort and the Allain River or Creek. Three sailing ships that would have entered the river from the sea are shown mid-river, where the channel was deep.
Pierre Doucet’s land was conveniently located across the river from Port Royal (red arrow), probably about where that ship was located, but that also meant the farm was exposed to the incursions of the English, which, unfortunately, occurred regularly. In other words, it wasn’t particularly safe.
Maybe I should restate. It not only wasn’t safe, it was probably an attractive target, unprotected by the fort and within easy sight of the ocean-going English warships.
This 1707 map reflects the locations of the homesteads across the river from star-shaped Fort Anne shown at center left. Pierre Doucet’s land is labeled and shown at the arrow, and the names of the neighbors noted in the census are shown in close proximity as well.
Today, you can see Fort Anne, a National Historic Site, at left beside the river, and the Doucet home across the river.
In addition to 1707, 1708, and 1710 original maps, MapAnnapolis has mapped the location of several Acadian homesites, overlaid onto contemporary maps, here.
You can see their placement of the Doucet homesite on an overlay of Google Maps today.
These are the same neighbors mentioned in the census.
What looks like a “rough patch” is visible in the yard indicated by MapAnnapolis. This is often what areas that are too rough to farm or mow look like from above. In other locations, patches like this are sometimes the remains of an Acadian homestead. I wonder if that’s the case here.
I’d surely love to know if anyone has investigated this property for historical relevance and the remains of an Acadian farm – perhaps the foundation of a building.
Incessant Warfare
“Acadia” in what is today Nova Scotia only lasted from the 1630s until 1755. René was probably the first generation born on Acadian soil. He had never and never would see the shores of France. His father, Pierre, was born in France about 1621.
If we accept 1680 as René’s birth year, he was only 10 when a devastating attack took place, nearly ending Acadia right then and there in 1690.
General William Phips, commander of the English fleet out of Boston set out with 7 ships and 700 men to capture Port Royal. They ransacked the town and fort, stole anything of value, and burned at least 28 homes and the church before returning to Boston. While they didn’t burn the mills and farms upriver, the Doucet farm wasn’t upriver – it was within immediate sight right across the river from the fort and assuredly would not have been spared.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, English pirates followed, doing even more damage. They burned more homes, killed people, and gleefully slaughtered livestock. The people in the 1686 census who are missing in 1693 would include those who died in these predatory raids – including René’s mother.
René’s father and the other Acadian men, his father among them, signed a loyalty oath to the English monarchy because they had no other choice. After they signed, the English departed for Boston, leaving an Acadian council in charge.
René, an impressionable boy of 10 or 12, witnessed this, and it would have impressed him deeply. It was probably a life-altering event, shaping his perspective forever.
This incursion, along with others, encouraged several Acadian families to move on to Les Mines and settlements along the Bay of Fundy.
The English continued to attack Port Royal, attempting to wrest control of Acadia from the Acadians due to their perceived allegiance to France, and force the Acadians from their land. I have never been clear if the English end goal was total control, or annihilation of the Acadians themselves in order to take their land for English settlement. Maybe the answer to that question depended on when, and who, was asked. Unfortunately, if the English had made the Acadians fair resettlement offers, instead of “just leave with nothing,” they would probably have left together.
Unfortunately, that never happened.
As René came of age, the raids and warfare were ramping up again. It’s likely that the family homestead was burned in 1690, 1696, 1703, 1707, 1708, and assuredly in 1710 when Port Royal fell.
That’s growing up and living in a war zone.
How does one actually recover from devastation like that? What bravery and perseverance were on display.
While Fort Anne did have a few soldiers, the fort had fallen into significant disrepair, forcing a wholesale replacement beginning around 1700.
Unfortunately, a series of events, including mismanagement, delayed the rebuilding of the fort. Even though the Acadians had been repeatedly warned that the English were planning to return, destroying and pillaging once again, they were not able to complete the fort in time. They didn’t have adequate and competent management. They didn’t have enough soldiers, or even Acadian men combined with soldiers, nor enough supplies or construction materials.
Of course, each subsequent attack increased the damage that had to be rebuilt. Not just the fort, but homes, farms, dykes, barns – the necessities of everyday life.
Throughout this, life continued. Marriages, births, deaths, church attendance, planting, and harvesting – whatever could be construed as normal during that time.
Wedded Bliss
When René Doucet married Marie Broussard in 1701 or early 1702, the community had suffered through several years of either being under attack, or expecting to be under attack. They knew it was coming; they just didn’t know when or how bad it would be. What a way to live. Continual dread.
For families whose farms were along the waterfront facing the fort, this must have been an incredibly stressful time because the British war machine sailed right up the river, laid anchor between the fort and the opposite bank, and began firing upon the fort and attacking the citizens.
Everything within sight was laid to the torch.
In some cases, the women and children were taken into the fort, into the powder magazine known as the “black hole,” but we don’t know if that happened in just 1710 or was standard practice earlier.
For René as a child, it might have been more dangerous to shelter in the fort than on the other side of the river. By the time they saw the ships arriving, they wouldn’t have been able to row across the river to the fort.
As an adult, he would have been worried about protecting his family and fighting.
It’s also possible that families on the north shore escaped into the North Hills behind their homes and made their way upriver to family members at BelleIsle.
The English soldiers would not have dared to follow through the dense woodland hills where both Acadians and Indians would be hiding in ambush, especially after night fell.
René Doucet married Marie Broussard, whose parents lived several miles upstream at Belle Isle, which was further from the fort and in a better defensive position. Perhaps when British sails appeared, Marie quickly gathered the children and headed for her parent’s home.
René and Marie had their first child, Pierre, the day before Christmas in 1703, which is how we established that they probably married in 1701 or 1702. Since records prior to May of 1702 didn’t survive, we don’t have a marriage date, nor do we know that they didn’t have an earlier child that died. Marie was born in January 1786, so she was young when she married – not unusual among Acadian girls.
Warfare can be all-consuming, but not even that could prevent love from blossoming. I hope their wedding day was warm, carefree, and joyful.
The Attacks Resume
In preparation for the expected conflict, in 1701, the Governor of Acadia began construction of a stone and earthen fort which was still incomplete by 1704, leaving the residents vulnerable. They scrambled, trying to complete the fort, but unsuccessfully.
The English attacks upon Acadia resumed about the same time that René and Marie were starting their family.
By June of 1704, when their baby boy was just 5 months old, Acadia was under attack again by the English in revenge for a French and Indian raid on Deerfield, Massachusetts in February of that year. It’s unclear whether the Acadians had anything to do with that raid, but nonetheless, they were the representative French people in the region and paid the price, bearing the wrath of the English.
Settlements and one of their two churches were looted. The dams and dikes were “dug down,” meaning their fields were flooded with seawater. Since you could see the Doucet farm from the river, we must assume theirs was one that suffered these depredations.
In later drawings, you can see ships docked in the Annapolis River, then called the Rivière Dauphin, between the fort and the Doucet land across the river. Given that the ships wanted to stay out of cannon range, they were probably anchored closer to the Doucet homestead than the fort. This may have been drawn from the Doucet land and shows us exactly what they saw.
When Daniel d’Auger de Subercase became governor of Acadia in April 1706, he had years of mismanagement and neglect to overcome with only 160 soldiers, many of whom were “fresh from the quays of Paris.” In other words, they were inexperienced or worse. Subercase knew he had to act instead of simply remaining a sitting duck, waiting for English predators to kill his men and end Acadia. He assumed an offensive position and, among other things, encouraged Native raids against English targets in New England.
He also encouraged the corsairs of Port-Royal to act against the English colonial ships. Privateers, another term for sanctioned pirates, were very effective, and the English fishing fleet on the Grand Banks was reduced by 80% between 1702 and 1707. As a bonus, certain English coastal communities were attacked.
In New England, public outrage simmered, at first, then those flames were fanned into rage.
René and Marie’s second (known) child, Anne Marie, arrived in November of 1706, three years after their first child, and just four months before the English attack on Acadia in March of 1707. The attack was comprised of 1000 men led by Massachusetts and joined by men from Rhode Island and New Hampshire. It ultimately failed but foreshadowed things to come.
Attacks occurred again in 1707 and 1708, some quite severe. The soldiers certainly couldn’t hold the fort alone, so all men who could carry a gun were members of the militia. There was no choice. Their lives hung in the balance.
In 1708, Queen Anne’s war began, and the hostilities ramped up again between the English and French.
In 1708, the fort’s store was built, and the Acadians were shoring up their defenses.
A new powder magazine and bombproof barracks were constructed and the riverbanks were cleared to remove cover for attackers. An additional ship was built, and relationships were established with privateers who welcomed the opportunity to take English ships. If France wouldn’t protect Acadia, the privateers would!
Prisoners taken from English corsairs reported that the English were planning attacks in 1708 and 1709.
René was just under 30 years old and probably physically in his prime.
Their third child, Agathe, arrived three years after the second child, on January 19, 1710. One of the godparents was the Lieutenant of the company at the fort. René was probably coordinating closely with the soldiers.
Nothing motivates a man like his family being in jeopardy, and their very existence depending on his skills as a soldier.
1710
On September 24, 1710, Port Royal was attacked again. The English were intent on completely overwhelming the Acadians with 5 warships and 3400 troops. This time, the English were well prepared. 400 marines from England were joined by 900 soldiers from Massachusetts, 300 from Connecticut, and 100 from New Hampshire. Iroquois were recruited as scouts.
There were more English and colonial soldiers than the Acadians had total residents in both Port Royal and the Acadian settlements further north.
The Acadians, with their 300 soldiers, a number which would have included all able-bodied men, stood absolutely no chance, although they did manage to hold the fort for an amazing 19 days. The episode became known as the Siege of Port Royal, or the Conquest of Acadia.
This hand-drawn English map shows the landmarks of the Siege of 1710. Looking at the map location across from the fort, it’s possible that the English came ashore at the Doucet homestead.
Another map shows the homesteads on the far side of the river across from the fort.
Based on the other maps, it appears to me that the Doucet home was actually the residence closest to the location, labeled with a “4,” which, according to the legend, is “where our whole body of men landed.”
I’m nauseous just thinking about what that family endured. Their abject terror. Perhaps this is why some of their children are 3 years apart instead of 18 months.
Did René have to witness his home burn? Did he know his family had sheltered elsewhere, or did he have to watch the flames, maybe from across the river, fearing the worst? What about his barn and livestock?
Would anyone or anything be left?
Without fields to plant and livestock, rebuilding would be impossible or, at best, exceedingly difficult. Without his wife and children, he wouldn’t care about rebuilding.
Here is what we know about the 1710 battle:
As the fleet sails north, it is joined by a dispatch ship sent by Thomas Matthews, captain of the Chester; it was carrying deserters from the French garrison, who reported that the morale of the French troops was extremely low. Nicholson (British commander) sends the ship ahead with one of the transports. As they entered Digby Gully, they received fire from groups of Micmacs on the coast. The ships retaliate with their guns, with neither side taking any casualties.
On October 5, the main British fleet arrived at Goat Island, about 10 kilometers (6.2 mi) south of Port-Royal. That afternoon, the Caesar transport runs aground while attempting to enter Annapolis, and is eventually swept away by the rocks. Her captain, part of her crew, and 23 soldiers died, while a company commander and some 25 other people fought ashore.
The following day, October 6, British marines began landing north and south of the fortress and town. The northern force was joined by four New England regiments under the command of Colonel Vetch, while Nicholson led the remaining New England troops as part of the southern force. The landings were uneventful, with fire from the fort being countered by one of Fleet’s long-range bombers. Although later accounts of the siege state that Vetch’s detachment was part of a strategic plan to encircle the fort, contemporary accounts report that Vetch wanted to have command somewhat independent of Nicholson. These same accounts state that Vetch never came within range of the fort’s guns before the end of the siege; his attempts to erect a battery of mortars in a muddy area opposite the fort, across Allain Creek, were repulsed by the fire of cannon. The southern force encountered guerrilla-type resistance outside the fort, with Acadian and native defenders firing small arms from houses and wooded areas, in addition to taking fire from the fort. This fire caused three deaths among the British, but the defenders could not prevent the British on the south side from establishing a camp about 400 meters from the fort.
Over the next four days the British landed their guns and brought them to camp. Fire from the fort and its supporters outside continued, and British bombers wreaked havoc inside the fort with their fire each night. With the imminent opening of new British batteries, Subercase sent an officer with a flag of parliament on 10 October. The negotiations started badly, because the officer was not announced correctly by a beater (drummer). Each side ended up taking an officer from the other, mainly for reasons of military etiquette, and the British continued their siege work.
On October 12, the forward siege trenches and guns within 91 m (300 ft) of the fort opened fire. Nicholson sends Subercase a demand for surrender, and negotiations resume. At the end of the day, the parties reach an agreement on the terms of surrender, which is formally signed the next day. The garrison is permitted to leave the fort with all the honors of war, “their arms and baggage, drums beating and flags flying.”
The British must transport the garrison to France, and the capitulation carries specific protections to protect the inhabitants. These conditions provide that “inhabitants of the cannon firing range of the fort” may remain on their properties for up to two years if they wish, provided they are prepared to take the oath to the British Crown.
Ironically, one of the terms of surrender stated that inhabitants within cannon-shot, 3 English miles, could stay for 2 years, meaning they had two years to move their “moveable items” to a French territory, which was any of the rest of Acadia, at least until the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713.
René’s home had probably already burned, but his land was unquestionably within cannon-shot.
481 Acadians pledged allegiance to the Queen of England, and the French troops left Port Royal, renamed by the English to Annapolis Royal, on a British warship. They were taken back to France.
450 English soldiers remained at the fort, but they clearly didn’t want to be there. By June of 1711, only 100 were left – the rest having either deserted or died.
The Native Americans were involved on both sides.
Everything was in upheaval.
In Grand Pre, the English arrived under the premise of peace but were actually there to take the property of the Acadians. Peter Melanson, Alexander Bourg, Anthony LeBlanc, John & Peter Landry were chosen to be deputies to bring the word to the Acadians who hadn’t heard that their property was now the government’s.
They were asked to pay 6000 livres (about $1200) in money or in poultry; plus, 20 pistoles ($80) every month to maintain the English governor’s table. This, in addition to a tax to pay the troops, would allow them to travel to and trade with Port Royal. Otherwise, they were captive.
No one counted on the stubborn dispositions of the Acadians.
A document was composed on November 16 saying that the deputies were granted the power to collect the money. English commander Samuel Vetch wanted to get as much money from the Acadians as possible, but 6 months of sickness had reduced his forces to 100 men, and he couldn’t impose the tax.
The Acadians weren’t used to being taxed and found every excuse possible not to pay, or to pay as little as possible. When the Acadians were asked to help by working on fortifications, a number of excuses were offered up…their horses were too thin, the Indians might attack, there was ice on the river, etc. This uncooperative attitude was effective and would remain with the Acadians through the years.
The Massacre at Bloody Creek
In June of 1711, a detachment of English soldiers from Fort Anne traveled upriver in a whaleboat and two flatboats and was ambushed by a band of Indians, although some reports indicated that there were also Acadians involved. The boats did not stay together and had not accounted for the tide, allowing the Indians to rally and set up an ambush. The Native people, who often intermarried with the Acadians, were closely allied.
Thirty English soldiers, a major, and the fort engineer were killed at what came to be known as “Bloody Creek,” 12 miles east of Annapolis Royal. The event was named the Battle of Bloody Creek or the Bloody Creek Massacre. Some evidence suggests there were more deaths than were reported.
Buoyed by their victory, approximately 600 Acadian, Abenaki, and Mi’kmaq men blockaded Fort Anne. Unfortunately, the blockade was unsuccessful because they had no artillery, and the fort was still accessible by water.
We can rest assured that René was involved in the blockade.
The English and the Oath
On March 23, 1713, René and Marie had their fourth child, Anne, three years after the third child was born.
On April 13, 1713, Acadia passed to England, with France ceding all of Nova Scotia or Acadia with its 2000 residents. One author reported that in the past century, France had sent less than 200 colonists to Acadia and, at that point, was focused on Louisiana. In other words, Acadia was left to fend for herself, whither, and die.
By 1713, the roles had reversed. The Acadian residents stated that they were ready to leave, but the English tried to prevent their departure because they realized that they needed their crops and labor to feed the English soldiers. The French at Ile Royal offered the Acadians safe harbor, but the Acadians refused, feeling that there wasn’t enough land, the ground was rocky, and they would starve. They knew how to farm salt marshes. They had no idea how to farm rocky soil.
For the Acadians, this was something of a lose-lose situation. Yet, the Acadians were known for their resolute persistence, and they continued to do so.
The English pressured the Acadians from 1713-1730 to take an oath of allegiance and become British subjects. The Acadians continually refused, expressing three points of concern: that they be able to continue their Catholic faith, the Indians (allies of the French) might attack an Acadian who fought against the French, and that the English take the Acadians’ history into account.
Both sides were entrenched, and the standoff continued.
The only census under the English was taken in 1714, where René was listed with his wife, son, and three daughters living among the same neighbors.
In a twist of irony, the Acadians tried to leave and join the other French families elsewhere, but Vetch, the English governor had reversed his position when he realized how strong that French settlement would be, and that he would have no farmers to govern and no one to feed the English soldiers. Now, instead of insisting they leave, he forbade them to leave and prevented their exodus.
Vetch wrote a letter on Nov. 24, 1714, to London, showing why he hadn’t let the Acadians go. Evidently, he had received six questions, which he answered thus:
1) He calls the area “L’Accady and Nova Scotia” and says there are about 500 families (2500 people) there.
2) He notes that all (except for 2 families from New England … the ALLENs and the GOURDAYs) wanted to move.
3) He also estimates that there are 500 families at Louisbourg, plus 7 companies (of soldiers). The French king gave them 18 months provisions and helped them out with ships and salt (for the fishery) to encourage them to settle there.
4) As to the movement of Acadians from Nova Scotia to Isle Royale, he notes that it would empty the area of inhabitants. Even the Indians (with whom the French intermarried and shared their religion) would take their trade to Isle Royale to follow the Acadians. This would make Isle Royale a much larger colony.
Vetch said that 100 Acadians (who knew the woods, could use snowshoes, and knew how to use birch canoes) were more valuable than 5 times as many soldiers fresh from Europe. They were also excellent in fishery. Such a move would create the largest and most powerful French colony in the New World.
5) He notes that some of them (“without much belongings”) have already moved, but the rest plan on moving the next summer (1715) when the harvest is over and the grain is in. They had about 5000 black cattle, plus many sheep and hogs, that they would take with them if permitted. So if they move, the colony will be reverted to a primitive state and be devoid of cattle. It would require a long time and 40,000 pounds to obtain that much livestock from New England.
6) He also wrote that having them sell the land wouldn’t be good; the treaty doesn’t even give them that right. He states that they wouldn’t have wanted to go if the French officers (speaking for the French king) hadn’t threatened that they’d be treated as rebels if they didn’t move.
The Acadians, always determined, tried any number of avenues to leave, including clandestinely making boats, which were seized. The Acadians essentially became hostages on their own lands – land that they hadn’t planted because they thought they were leaving.
So, in November of 1714, in addition to the other issues, they had no food. That meant that the winter of 1714 was a very lean time. Marie was pregnant.
On May 1, 1715, René and Marie had their fifth child, Francois.
The Acadians remained completely committed to their position. They were pleasant and polite but staunchly refused to take that cursed oath.
The English were in control and they were stubborn too. Things got worse.
In 1715, the gates of Fort Anne were shut, and the Acadians were prevented from trading with the fort and also with the Indians. The Acadians now desperately wanted to leave, but they couldn’t. The English tried to starve them into submission.
I hope that the sea and maybe their Indian allies sustained the Acadians during these starving times. Something must have worked, because that baby born in May didn’t die.
In 1717, Captain Doucette, reportedly an Englishman of no relation (but I’d like to see a Y-DNA test) became the Lieutenant Governor of Acadia. By this time some Acadians relented and decided to stay on peaceful terms. Perhaps the devil you know versus the devil you don’t. When the Indians learned about this, they threatened the Acadians.
Though they had always been friends and allies, and in some cases, relatives, the Indians were worried about the Acadians defecting to the English side if they agreed to the English terms and stayed put.
Captain Doucette demanded that the Acadians take the oath, but the Acadians thought that doing so would tie them down … and most of the families still wanted to move. They said if they were to stay, they wanted protection from the Indians, and the oath should be stated so that they would not have to fight their own countrymen. But Doucette wanted an unconditional oath.
Wills clashed, and neither side made headway. The stalemate continued.
On April 19, 1718, René and Marie had their 6th child, Catherine, three years after their fifth child was born.
Sadly, on October 4, 1719, Catherine died and was buried, probably in the garrison cemetery. I do question this, though, because the garrison would have been under English control, and there was a Mass House where the Acadians worshipped at BelleIsle, so their child might have been buried in that now-lost cemetery there.
1720 – To Leave or Not to Leave
By this time, Port Royal had been renamed to Annapolis Royal.
On May 9, 1720, those who had become British subjects were offered free exercise of their religion, a guarantee to their property, and their civil rights. Official notices were translated into French to be distributed, a policy that continued from 1720 to 1755. An offer was made that they could depart but not take any of their possessions with them.
The Acadians answered that they feared the Indians if they took the oath. They promised to be faithful and peaceful but would not sign the requested oath and agreement. They explained that they couldn’t leave in the year allotted by the treaty because no one would buy their land.
The French government wanted them to move, but the land the French offered was poor, and the English government was underhandedly making them stay by refusing to allow them to take anything. The English didn’t want to lose their source of supplies. The Acadians were hard to control…the Minas Acadians even more so than the Port Royal Acadians.
Everyone was exasperated, and the Acadians were probably angry.
Those poor Acadians. This is the drama that never ends.
General Phillips arrived later in 1720 and issued a proclamation that they must take the oath unconditionally or leave the country within 3 months. He also said they couldn’t sell or take with them any of their property, thinking that would force the Acadians to take the oath. But the Acadians still refused, saying that the Indians were threatening them. When they proposed, “Let us harvest our crops and use vehicles to carry it,” Philipps figured that the Acadians were planning on taking their possessions with them and denied their request.
This had truly become a no-win situation.
The Acadians felt that their only route of “escape” was by land, so they began to make a road from Minas to Port Royal, about 70 miles.
The governor issued an order that no one should move without his permission, and he even sent an order to Minas to stop work on the road.
The English stated that the Acadians desired to take the Port Royal cattle to Beaubassin, about 300 miles today by road but not nearly as far by water. Beaubassin was a fortified French possession and some Acadian families had already lived there for decades.
Philipps, reaching the end of his patience, pronounced the Acadians ungovernable and stubborn, and stated that they were directed by bigoted priests. He went on to say that the Acadians couldn’t be allowed to go because it would strengthen the population of their French neighbors. The Acadians were also needed to build fortifications and to produce supplies for the fort. Philipps stated that they couldn’t leave until there “are enough British subjects to be settled in their place.” He hoped that there were plans being made to bring in British families and expected problems from the Indians, who didn’t want the Acadians to move.
Instead, France started sending people to Ile Royal. The fort at Louisbourg, destroyed in 1758, was begun in 1720. Other settlements in the region included St. Pierre near the Straight of Canso, which had slate mines, and Niganiche, further north on the Gulf of St. Lawrence, a fishing port.
On February 5, 1721, René and Marie had their 7th child, Marguerite, three years after their 6th child.
Roughly two years later, in 1723, Charles, their 8th child, joined the family.
On August 20, 1725, they welcomed their 9th child, Jean, into the world.
By now, René was 45 years old and probably quite tired of the constant upheaval and uncertainty. He had lived his entire life like this.
1725 – An Oath, But Wait…
In 1725, Governor Armstrong, a violent man with a bad temper and a reputation that preceded him, arrived. However, he realized he needed the Acadians and convinced the Port Royal Acadians, representing about one-fourth of the Acadian population, to take the oath by reminding them that England would not allow Catholics to serve in the Army. Their concern was having to fight against their countrymen and family members, and he had addressed that. Encouraged by his success, he tried the same thing in Minas, but it didn’t work.
Then, he offered to allow the Acadians to take the following oath: “I do sincerely promise and swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to His Majesty King George the Second, so help me God.” This meant that they wouldn’t have to “take up arms” against the French or Indians, they could leave whenever they wanted, and they had the freedom to have priests and to practice the Catholic religion.
Beginning then, they were often known as the “Neutral French” or French Neutrals.
The Acadians breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the decades-long issues that rubbed constantly like a burr in underwear were finally over.
Maybe they could finally live in peace and raise their children with some level of security.
On July 20th, 1728, René and Marie welcomed their 10th child, Cecile.
In 1729, that oath they had taken was considered too lenient and declared null and void. Everyone was unhappy, but the Acadians were unwavering in their insistence on a conditional oath.
This is where it gets interesting.
Governor Phillips Saves the Day!
Phillips, the old commander who was sent to replace Armstrong, reported that the Acadians took this oath:
“I sincerely promise and swear, as a Christian, that I will be utterly faithful and will truly obey His Majesty King George the Second, whom I acknowledge as the sovereign Lord of Nova Scotia and Acadia. So help me God.”
That’s what Phillips reported, but the actual oath continued on a second page, as follows:
“… that the inhabitants, when they have sworn hereto, will not be obliged to take up arms against France or against the Savages, and the said Inhabitants have further promised that they will not take up arms against the King of England or against its government.”
The priest and a notary signed as witnesses, but Phillips only sent the first part back to England. The Royals didn’t know about the second part, and the Acadians believed they were protected. In essence, both sides got their way, even though it wasn’t exactly on the up-and-up.
However, it worked, and peace was finally upon Acadia.
For the next 15 or 20 years, the Acadians were left alone, and their population grew rapidly. However, those additional people strained the seams of the Acadian settlements at Port Royal.
But for René, that didn’t matter.
A Baptism
On September 10th, 1731, René Doucet and Anne Granger witnessed the baptism of René’s granddaughter, Marguerite Garceau, born to Jeanne, also known as Anne Doucet and Daniel Garceau. René’s daughter would have been ecstatic about the birth of her first baby and was probably thrilled for her father to stand as godfather. I can only imagine her joy that fall day, standing beside the baptismal font.
The inclusion of Anne Granger, who would have been a neighbor, suggests strongly that they were still living on the same land where René had been born, probably in the house that had been rebuilt several times, overlooking the beautiful dyked marshes and the Annapolis River.
While this wasn’t René’s first grandchild, it was the second grandchild born in Port Royal and the only one he had stood with at their baptism. The rest of his grandchildren were born to children who had married and migrated to Chipoudy or Beaubassin – not places nearby. He probably seldom, if ever, saw his children who moved away and their children.
Tragedy
Sometime after September 10, 1731, tragedy struck. René died, but we don’t know when, or how, or where. We just know that there are no further records that include René. No baptisms that I’ve found – nothing.
What we do know is that there was no death or burial entry in the Port Royal parish records, nor the records in the Minas basin. In other words, had René been visiting his children elsewhere and perished, he would have been buried there, and the priest would have made an entry in the church books, which do exist.
Instead, we are met with stony silence.
Was he out on the water and died?
Was he traveling by boat or canoe to visit his children when a storm came up and swamped his boat?
Was he fishing?
Did a bore tide sweep him away?
Did he drown, his body not recovered?
Did he disappear hunting in the winter?
What happened, and why is there no record?
He wasn’t an old man, only just over 50, someplace between 51 and 53.
We will never know, but I surely hope his family knew and were able to have some type of closure.
I hope he didn’t simply disappear.
Assuming René died about 1731, his wife, Marie Broussard who was about 45, was left with children at home to raise.
I believe, based on what we have been able to discern, that René’s son-in-law, Daniel Garceau, stepped in and helped his wife’s family, essentially running the farm for all of them to survive. They would all have lived communally.
Even with help, Marie assuredly had her hands full.
- Son, Pierre had married in 1725 and was living in Chipoudy.
- Daughter Anne Marie was married and living in Pisiquit.
- Daughter Agathe was married and living in Chipoudy.
- Daughter Anne or Jeanne had married Daniel Garceau and stayed in Annapolis Royal, probably working the farm with Marie. Marie must have thanked God daily for this couple.
- Son Francois was about 16 when René died and didn’t marry until 1742, staying in Annapolis Royal. He probably helped Daniel and his mother with the farm.
- Daughter Marguerite was about 10 years old when René died.
- Son Charles was about 8 when René died.
- Son Jean was about 6 when René died.
- Daughter Cecile was about 3 when René died.
René’s widow, Marie, never remarried, although her life would have been much easier with a husband. She reportedly died sometime after the marriage of her youngest child, Cecile, who was the last to marry on January 22, 1752. Both parents are mentioned in this record, and neither is mentioned as deceased. We are left to wonder.
The other possibility for René is that the reason there is no death record for him is because he lived beyond the deportation in 1755, and died elsewhere. That’s not impossible, but absolutely no record in 24+ years makes that rather improbable. The Annapolis Royal parish records are not indexed by every name – only indexing the primary person, parents and spouse. Parents are provided, but if they are deceased, those records don’t always say so. Witnesses and godparents are also not indexed. I surely wish they were.
So, if anyone finds René Doucet in any parish record in Acadia after September of 1731, please let me know.
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