|
an ACADIAN EXILE article
Cultures
of Acadiana |
Lafayette (LA) Daily Advertiser, March 30, 1999
Voorhies among first to record Acadian history
by Jim Bradshaw
In 1907, Judge Felix Voorhies of Lafayette published "Acadian Reminiscences, The True Story of Evangeline," which he describes in the Introduction as "... a story centered about the life of the Acadians whose descendants are now residents of the Teche Country also known as the Land of Evangeline."
In this little book, Judge Voorhies relates the story of the early Acadian life, the expulsion, and the eventual settlement of the Acadians on the Teche as that story was told to him by his grandmother, who, he said adopted Emmeline LaBiche, the Acadian girl upon whom Henry Wadsworth Longfellow modeled the heroine of the epic poem, "Evangeline."
In the final; chapter of the book, the grandmother tells her petiots (little ones) the story of how the Acadians left Maryland to go to Louisiana. The tale as related by Judge Voorhies sometimes strays from the actual history as we know it today. But when the judge wrote down his grandmother's story, it was one of the first attempts to make certain that history did not forget the pathos and drama of the Acadian exile.
Here are excerpts from the final chapter of Judge Voorhies' book.
As I have told you, petiots, during three years, we had lived contented and happy in Maryland, when we received tidings that a number of Acadians, exiles like us, had settled in Louisiana, where they were prospering and retrieving their lost fortunes under the fostering care of the French government.
This news which threw us in a flutter, engrossed our minds so completely that we spoke of nothing else. It gave rise to the most extravagant conjectures, and the hope of seeing, once more, the dear ones torn so cruelly from us, was revived in our hearts. ...and we finally discussed seriously the expediency of emigrating to Louisiana. The more timid among us represented the temerity and folly of such an undertaking, but the desire to see our brother exiles grew keener every day, and became so deeply rooted in our minds, that we concluded to leave for Louisiana, where the banner of France waved over true French hearts.
Our friends used all their eloquence to dissuade us from our resolve, but we resisted all their entreaties, although we were deeply touched by this new proof of their friendship. We disposed of the articles that we could not carry along with us, and kept our wagons and horses to transport the women and children and the baggage. In all, we numbered two hundred persons, and of these, fifty were well armed, ready to face any danger.
We journeyed slowly; the wagons moved in the center, while twenty men in advance, and as many in the rear marched four abreast. Ten of the bravest and most active of the young men took the lead a short distance ahead of the column, and formed our advance guard. Our forced were distributed in this wise, petiots, for our safety, as the road lay through mountain defiles, and in a wild and dreary country inhabited by Indians.
We secured as scouts and guides, two Indians ... in whom we were told we could place the most implicit confidence. We had occasion, more than once, to find how fortunate we had been to secure their services.
We set out in a westerly direction, (and) our journey was slow and tedious for a thousand obstacles impeded out progress. We encountered deep and rapid streams that we could not cross for want of boats; we traveled through mountain defiles, where the pathway was narrow and dangerous, winding over hill and dale and over craggy steeps, where one false step might hurl us down into the yawning chasm below. We suffered from storms and pelting rains, and at night when we halted to rest our weary limbs, we had only the light canvas of our tents to shelter us from the inclemency of the weather.
But we were lulled by the hole that far, far away in Louisiana, our dreamland, we would find our kith and kin. That radiant hope illumined our pathway; it shone as a beacon light on which we kept our eyes riveted. ... Thus we advanced fearlessly ... almost cheerfully, and at night, when we pitched out tents in some solitary spot, our Acadian songs broke the silence and loneliness of solitude, and, as the gentle wind wafted them over the hills, the light couplets were re-echoed back to us so clearly and so distinctly, that it seemed the voice of some friend repeated them in the distance.
As long as we journeyed in Virginia, barring the obstacles presented by the roads of a country diversified by hill and dale, our progress, though slow, was satisfactory. The people were generous and supplied us with an abundance or provisions. But when the white population grew sparser and sparser, and when we reached the wild and mountainous country which, we were told, bore the name of Carolina, the, petiots, it required a stout heart and firm resolve, indeed, not to abandon the attempt to reach Louisiana by the overland route we were following.
During days and weeks, we had to march slowly and tediously through endless forests, cutting our way across undergrowth so thick as to be almost impervious to light; brushwood where a cruel enemy might lay concealed in ambush to murder us, for we were now in the very heart of the Indian country, and the savages followed us, stealthily, day and night. We could see them with their tattooed faces and hideous headgear of feathers, frightful in appearance, lurking around in the forest and watching our movements. We were always on the alert, expecting an attack at any moment.
Petiots, it was then that our mental and bodily anguish became extreme. ... Our nights were sleepless, and, careworn and on the verge of starvation, we moved steadily onward, the very picture of dejection and despair.
But a kind Providence watched over us. God tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb. The hope of finding our lost kindred stimulated our drooping spirits. We had been told that Louisiana was a land of enchantment, where a perpetual spring reigned. A land where the soil was extremely fertile; where the climate was so gentle and temperate, and the sky so serene and azure, as to justly deserve the name Eden of America. It smiled to us in the distant like the promised land, and toward that land we bent our weary steps.
At last we reached Tennessee river, where it curves gracefully around the base of a mountain, looming up hundreds of feet. Its banks were rocky and precipitous, falling straight down at least fifty feet, and we could see, in the chasm below, its water that flowed majestically on in their course toward the grand old (Mississippi). It was out of the question to cross the river there, and we followed the roadway on its banks around the mountain, advancing cautiously to avoid the danger that threatened us at every step.
As we advanced, the country became more and more level, and after four days of toil and fatigue, we halted and camped on a hill by the riverside, where a small creek runs into the river. We met there a party of Canadian hunters and trappers who gave us a friendly welcome, and replenished out store of provisions with game and venison. They informed us that the easiest and least wearisome way to reach Louisiana was to float down the Tennessee and (Mississippi) rivers. The plan suggested by them was adopted and the men of our party ... felled trees to build a suitable boat.
Our boat was unwieldy but it served our purpose well. We stored in it our baggage and supplies; we sold our horses and wagons to our Canadian friends, and taking leave of our Indian guides, we cut loose the moorings of the boat. We floated down stream, our young men rowing, and singing Acadian songs. ... During the day, we traveled, and at night, we morred our boat safely, and encamped on the banks of the turbulent waters of the Mississippi and floated down that noble stream as far as bayou Plaquemines, in Louisiana, where we landed. Once more we were treading French soil, and we were freed form English dominion.
As the tidings of our arrival spread abroad, a great number of Acadian exiles flocked to our camp to greet and welcome us. Ah! petiots, how can I describe our joy and rapture, when we recognized countenances familiar to us. Grasping their hands, with hearts to full for utterance, we wept like children. Many a sorrowing heart revived to love and happiness on that day. Many a sorrowing heart revived to love and happiness on that day. Many a wife pressed to her bosom a long lost husband. Many a fond parent clasped in rapturous embrace a loving child.
Shortly afterwards, we left for the Teche region, where lands had been granted to us by the government. We wended our way, to our destined homes, through dismal swamps, through bayous without number and across lakes until we reached Portage Sauvage, at Fausse Pointe. The next day, we were at the Poste des Attakapas, a small hamlet having two or three houses, one store, and a small wooden church, situated on bayou Teche which we crossed in a boat.
The Teche region ... was a wild region inhabited, mostly, by Indians and by a few white men, trappers and hunters by occupation. Its immense prairies, covered with weeds as tall as you, were the commons where herds of cattle and of deer roamed unmolested, save by the hunter and the panthers. Such was the region your ancestors settled, and which, by their energy, they have transformed into a garden teeming with wealth.
The Acadians enriched themselves in a country where no one will starve if he is industrious, and where one may easily become rich if he fears God, and if he is economical and orderly in his affairs.