The Acadians in South Carolina, Georgia, etc.

Lamentable as was tlie fate of the Acadians at Philadelphia, we have reason to believe it was just as bad elsewhere, and much worse in some places. The State Legislature, it is true, was often merciless towards them; but private charity, stimulated by the generous efforts of good Mr Benuzet, came to their succor with a most praiseworthy solicitude. Even as regards the Legislature, we have proof that on several occasions it helped them effectually. It is precisely owing to this fact that we are better informed concerning this group of exiles than concerning others that were numerically much more important. Philadelphia was a pretty considerable centre even at that time. If the assistance tendered to only 450 persons and soon to less than half that number, appeared so onerous, and was the occasion of so many petitions to the Legislature, we can well imagine what must have been the misery and mortality of the groups of exiles in Maryland, Virginia, Carolina and Georgia, where the climate was so fatal to people from the North. They numbered about 4,000 in three or four places. Public and private charity became powerless to afford assistance to so many; and that is probably why some governors of these Provinces did not seek to retain them.

The 1,500 Acadians who disembarked in South Carolina were at first distributed among the settlements; but the authorities were soon moved by their cruel fate, and furnished them, at the expense of the State, with ships to enable them to go elsewhere.

A memorial written in 1762 recounts in the following terms the adventures that befell a band of Acadians who had set out from South Carolina:

“The inhabitants gave them two old vessels, a small quantity on very poor provisions and permission to go where the} wished. Having embarked in vessels that were riddled with leaks, they were soon stranded on the coast of Virginia near Hampton, an Irish colony. They were first taken for enemies coming to plunder, afterwards for pirates, and at last for dangerous guests to be got rid of immediately. They were forced to buy a vessel; and, as all the money they could collect amongst themselves amounted to “four hundred pieces of eight.” this was the price they had to pay. This ship was still less seaworthy than those they had just left, and they had all the difficulty in the world to run aground a second time on the coast of Maryland. It would be unfair to forget to say here that one of the magistrates of Virginia, having learnt the perfidy with which these unfortunate people had been treated, caused the inhabitants of the village of Hampton to be punished, and sent a boat for the Acadians to get them to return and acquaint them with the condition of their vessel. The remains of their shipwreck were then the only resource they had, and they spent two months on a desert island repairing this vessel. They finally succeeded, and after having once more put to sea for the third time, they had the good fortune to reach the Bay of Fundy, where they landed near St. John River, reduced to nine hundred from having been over two thousand at their departure from Acadia.”

Georgia, ;us is known, had been founded to serve as a refuge to the unfortunate; but it was declared in the charter that no Roman Catholic could settle there; so that, as soon as the Acadians arrived, Governor Reynolds decreed their banishment. With his authorization, they constructed roughly-made boats. In the hope of seeing again their native country, or at least of removing from a climate which made so many victims among them, they trusted themselves to the mercy of the waves. Thanks to incredible courage and perseverance some were able to reach New York and even Massachusetts: but an order from the pitiless Lawrence stopped them; their boats were confiscated or destroyed, and they themselves were again thrown into captivity

Others traversing the immense wilderness that separated them from the Gulf of Mexico, were able at last to reach the Mississippi and then Louisiana by paddling down the great stream that leads thither.

They thought they were bidding an eternal farewell to their beloved country, to their kinsfolk and friends cast on other shores; but at least in this isolated place they could hope for a safe asylum against new persecutions; it was still better to combat the elements and the climate than to expose themselves to the fury of a tyrant. Their lot, sad as it was, certainly was preferable to that of their countrymen who exposed themselves anew to the cruelty of Lawrence. The number of those who took refuge in this asylum was at first inconsiderable. How could severed families make up theii minds to flee in a direction which removed them still farther from their relatives that were cast on the shores of New England, or had taken refuge in the forests of 'Stevens’ History of Georgia, Vol. I., pp. 413, 417.

New Brunswick? Yet the sequel proved that their determination was much the wiser. True, they were neither better nor worse off than the others as to the sundering of families; but in a verj- few years they could, in this luxuriant region, regain a decent livelihood and enjoy the liberty and tranquillity that were so long wanting to so many others. From 1765 to 1788, and especially from 1780 to 1788, they were reinforced by about 3,000 compatriots who arrived from San Domingo,, Guiana, the ports of New England, and particularly from France.

The first colony was founded on the Mississippi itself near Baton Rouge; but those who came to join them pushed their settlements into the interior to the Attakapas and Opelousas, where they formed important and prosperous groups. There they have devoted their attention chiefly to the raising of cattle in large herds; the} have preserved their customs, traditions and language with a fidelity that makes them recognizable at sight. They number to-day about 40,000.

Several of their descendants have won their way to high positions: for instance, Alexandre Mouton sat for some time in the senate of the United States, became Governor of Louisiana and was president of the convention which decreed the secession of the Southern States. His son, General Mouton, was killed at the head of his regiment, wholly composed of Acadians, during the war of secession. Mr. Poch6, also an Acadian, is at present, if I am well informed, chief-justice of this State.

In the south the Acadians were generally treated with humanity; but it was not always so in the Provinces of New England. Those especially were treated mercilessly who, on their return from Carolina and Georgia, wished to obtain provisions in the ports of Connecticut and Massachusetts.

In 1756 a band of 78 exiles succeeded, after a thousand privations, in building a small vessel. Having set out from Carolina in the spring-time, they had at length passed New York. While stopping in a cove of Long Island to get water and provisions, they were seized by order of the governor, Sir Charles Hardy, although they had passports signed by the governors of Carolina and Georgia; they were banished into the interior of the province in several remote villages, where the magistrates were ordered to provide work for the adults, and to get possession of the children in order “to turn them into good and useful subjects,” that is to say, into Protestants. All these children were accordingly severed from their parents and distributed in the counties of Westchester and Orange.

The lot of these unfortunate people was already cruel enough, it would seem, to enlist sympathy and kindness. Was it not enough to have been expelled from their country, stripped of all their goods, separated from their relations and flung upon a burning soil where disease had sown death and mourning? Had they not endured enough privations and labor in order to build themselves a vessel with which to sail away from that fatal climate? Had they not borne the hardships of a laborious and painful voyage? And, after all these multiplied afflictions, had they not to bear separation among strangers to their creed, their language and their habits? Yet all this was not enough. The tranquillity of Lawrence was troubled by these migrations. In the following year an order was issued to throw them into prison, and, as Gilmary Shea relates, this decree was carried out all along the coast from Richmond northward.

Before such an accumulation of sufferings and outrages inflicted on a peaceable and unarmed population, which had never given any occasion for severity at a time when it held in its hands the destinies of its country, one feels a pang of heartrending grief, forcing to the lips a cry of inexpressible anguish, with which are unconsciously mingled words of malediction. Has ever a shipwrecked crew, fallen among the fiercest islanders of Oceania, been forced to endure so many moral tortures as fell to the lot of these poor victims of a tyrant’s oppression'? And this took place in a civilized country, eighteen centuries after the foundation of Christianity and the coming of Him whose greatest teaching was charity and the love of one’s neighbor; this occurred on the eve of a revolution in the name of liberty. Slow indeed is the evolution, that must lead mankind to understand and practise the true spirit which constitutes the essence of Christianity. What wonder that unrest dwells in men’s minds, that they are asking themselves if our social status be not the obstacle that prevents the full development of the pure Christian spirit?

This latter end of the nineteenth century thinks it has attained a high degree of civilization. Are we very sure of it? We may answer by pointing to our material progress, our inventions, our discoveries of all kinds; but that is, at best, a proof of ingenuity; our age is, of course, pre-eminently ingenious. But what of the expansion and progress of the true Christian spirit, wherein is necessarily found the only true civilization?

We have societies for the prevention of cruelty to the brute beast; but man, the moral being, who suffers even when liis body does not suffer or long after the body has ceased to suffer, who suffers because he has a soul that feels keenly and forgets slowly, is he, I ask, protected more than, or even as much as, the brute? Society has acted fairly with the brute; has it done so with man? Hardly. Nor is it surprising that this anomaly should provoke a certain restlessness that is inclined to attack the foundations of society as if the fault lay in their very structure.

But let me continue this sad tale. I want to be generous and should like to suppose, for the honor of humanity, that the local authorities obeyed orders it would have been imprudent to disobey, or, perhaps, that these barbarous deeds were the inevitable consequence of the first act of this tragedy; but I find nowhere the justification I am looking for. Lawrence, who had acted without orders, had not himself the right to give any to these governors, especially for such odious measures; and, nothing in the history or accounts of the times points to a single act of insubordination or resistance by force of arms on the part of these exiles.

In July of the same year seven small vessels, bearing ninety exiles, were sailing along the south coast of Massachusetts. They also were arrested at their entrance into port and dispersed by the local authorities, who seized their passports.

The following year some of those who had been confined in the county of Westchester succeeded in escaping and endeavored to reach the frontier of Canada; but they were arrested at Fort Edward and again condemned to captivity. These attempts at escape might easily have been prevented, if Acadian families had been allowed to live in groups, or, at least, if the members of the same family had been allowed to live together. By separation and harsh treatment they were driven to flight.