A Deeper Look at St. Gabriel
May 22, 2026
Although we do not always have the opportunity to revisit distant places, we definitely grow in wisdom and understanding when allowed to do so. I think of the many times that I have had the good fortune since the 1970s to stand on ground that my Morin ancestors trod in Nova Scotia and in Québec. Each time I have discovered or reconsidered places and experiences, delved further into provincial archives, met inhabitants and scholars, studied updated narratives, and have just chosen new roads to explore. The passage of time can lead to forgetfulness, but it can also allow life to be seen with newer perspectives and appreciation as we age.
I have been very lucky in researching my own family, Acadians, and Maryland history, probably because the journey has not been rushed. New folks and books have always presented themselves. Besides, my study is somewhat esoteric and never in competition with another on the same exact quest. With good health, time, pleasant surprises, the ability to travel, a spouse normally close at hand with whom to share observations, growth over a half-century has been immeasurable and never-ending.
I love my Acadian roots and the many manifestations of Acadian-Cajun life that have come my way. My only regret is not being able to share all this with my deceased relatives who did not have access to the numerous resources now available, who understood only that they had a Canadian past without knowing specifics of their 17th and 18th century pioneer ancestors who prepared the road for them. When my great-grandfather Thomas Morin emigrated to Missouri in 1881, he left behind parents and a future as a Québecois for a new life in railroading in America’s expanding heartland. He and his wife Emma Fournier would have eleven children to parent, and most of them had no chance to react with those relatives who remained up north in St-Lin, Disraeli, Sherbrooke, St-Hyacinthe, St-Raymond, Montréal, and Sweetsburg (Cowansville). As I began discovering my roots post-university, I fortunately had a brief period to show my grandfather Adélard about what I was uncovering. If I could only go back in time and ask deeper questions of him with an adult’s perspective.
That being said, I have also been in Louisiana numerous times over the decades and have come to know how important Maryland’s influence was on the birth of the Cajun people in St. James Parish (Cabahonnocer, Cabanocey), St. Gabriel (Iberville), the Lafourche region, the Attakapas, and, to a more temporary degree, on the area near Fort San Luis de Natchez. For the moment, I will concentrate on my favorite, St. Gabriel.
Located on the east bank of the Mississippi River, about 16 miles downstream from Baton Rouge, St. Gabriel was opened to settlement by Spanish Governor Antonio de Ulloa in 1767. Maryland Acadians were initially welcomed to areas that would ensure strength and security against future British threats from West Florida. Ulloa first encouraged those Neutrals to become established at Cabanocey in 1766. Their movement from the Chesapeake had even escaped much scrutiny from local folks in Baltimore. The 224 taking advantage of Ulloa’s initial invitation were principally from the Eastern Shore communities around Oxford and Snow Hill – most probably exiles from Pigiguit (Nova Scotia) in 1755. Leaving the colony of Maryland in the summer of 1766, it was only eight months afterward that some Baltimore residents finally complained to British provincial officials that they had thought that the departing exiles (or Neutrals) had left for Pensacola, not for Louisiana, which was erroneously thought to be enemy territory still under French control (though, as we know, handed over to the Spanish in 1762). Lack of adequate documentation from both Maryland and Louisiana prevents us today from even knowing the name of the vessel, her captain, or port of departure. Surely, the Neutrals on board could prove to be dangerous to colonial security, given their prior knowledge of British colonial waters! In their opinion, the Acadians should have been sent northward, where “his Majesty has Territory enough to accommodate them & Millions more.”[1] A few days after these concerns were aired publicly in April 1766, a second vessel bound for Louisiana cleared at Baltimore. This English schooner had a name (the Virgin), sailed under the command of Thomas Jarrold (not Capt. Tirel as mentioned in Papeles procedentes de Cuba, Archivo General de Indias, legajo 109),[2] and arrived in Louisiana on 12 July 1767 after a long journey of 78 days, with a two-week layover in Guarico (Venezuela). Her 210 or so passengers were mainly from the upper reaches of the Chesapeake – namely, Baltimore, Upper Marlboro, Georgetown, with a smattering from Newtown (Chestertown), Oxford, and Port Tobacco. A good many of these particular folks were not removed from Pigiguit, but displaced residents from the Grand-Pré area. Much to their disappointment, Gov. Ulloa had decided that they could not join other exiles in Cabanocey but would be needed to populate and protect St. Gabriel. Four days after finally entering in New Orleans on 27 July, Capt. Jarrold sold his schooner for 1600 piastres and found his way back north to invest in another vessel. It seems that the Neutral passengers that he had transported were finally introduced to St. Gabriel by 17 August and soon afterward found out where they would be placed and who would be their immediate neighbors. The process was not without logistical challenges, shortages of rations, sickness, bad weather, and disputes between the Acadians and the Spanish; and the vital, nearby fort was still under construction.
The establishment at St. Gabriel did eventually succeed as tensions diminished and land was cleared. For me, St. Gabriel is so special today for two particular reasons: those church registries from Acadia possibly carried there by the Allain family and the survival of the actual church structure, which, like the United States, also celebrates its 250th anniversary in 2026!
Over the years, I have visited the St. Gabriel site three times – in 1986, 2015, and last year. What stands out, above all, is a private tour of the church interior at the time of the Grand Réveil in 2015. My wife and I had landed in New Orleans on the morning of October 7, and our friend Marty Guidry had arranged for us to meet him at a gas station off of the I-10 exit at Gonzales. Provided by our host with po’boys and informed that we had no time to waste, we followed his car to St. Gabriel, where Gene LeBlanc and Cliff Normand, passionate custodians of the property, awaited us. It was quite a unique opportunity to talk about its original architecture and its modifications. At the end, we purchased a video, ”Exploring the Old St. Gabriel Church,” that I’ll refer to in a little bit, and, to this day, I have a brochure in my possession, penned by David Broussard, chronicling the church’s first years. After such a start to the day, Marty then made sure that we then sped off to catch a presentation by archivist Ann Boltin at the offices of the Diocese of Baton Rouge. Here a small group was granted special access to the original copies of those precious St. Charles-des-Mines registries.
With these memories in mind, I recently found our family photo albums from these past visits and Broussard’s eight-page brochure, “Mysteries and Myths: Unraveling the History of the Old St. Gabriel Church” (1995). David has recently sent me copies of two other informative articles: “The Odyssey of the Old St. Gabriel Church” and “Marguerite House Rooted in 18th Century Acadian Settlement.”
The previously mentioned video predates my last two visits, but I cannot think of a better way to spend nearly 28 minutes than to view a YouTube video produced in black and white more than thirty years ago. Six scholars – Carl Brasseaux, Jay Edwards, Robert Heck, and the aforementioned Gene LeBlanc, David Broussard, and Sid Gray – did a fantastic job looking at St. Gabriel’s historical and architectural significance. Just copy this link and paste it into search: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pE0gDNDPP4U. By the time you finish, you will have vicariously crawled under the church and then gotten up a closeup view of its handmade trusses, broken-pitch roof, and later Gothic-style vaulting with Sid, and considered its exterior siding boards and former side galleries with David. A presbytère (rectory) was the first parish structure to be erected in 1772; the eventual 60’x33.5’ church that followed had to be moved away from the mighty river three times in the past (1818, 1887, and 1932); and termites, rot, and storms have caused the size of the tower to be adjusted over the years. Today’s surviving team of volunteers is still working on ways to maintain the structure and to promote ways in which the church can function with respect and not just be shut off from the general public. Apparently, many opinions prevail in the community and have prevented a unified approach to preservation and use. St. Gabriel is a distinctively American form of Creole architecture. Even with 19th century renovations, over 70% of the building is original to the 1770s thanks to cypress and good craftmanship.
[1] Archives of Maryland, XXXII, 187-88 (2 Apr 1767).
[2] Letter from Andrés de Valderrama, dated 14 July 1767, according to R. E. Chandler, “St. Gabriel Acadians: the First Five Months,” Louisiana History 21:3 (Summer 1980), 287. In an important prior article, “End of an Odyssey: Acadians Arrive in St. Gabriel, Louisiana,” Louisiana History 14:1 (Winter 1973), 69-85, Chandler began his study of the region with detailed analysis (and translation) of AGI, legajo 2585, in which he listed 29 specifics considered by Ulloa in early August 1767.
Francophones in Maryland 