07/14/2026
Mapping the Parish Cemetery of St-Charles-des-Mines, Grand-Pré
Soon, visitors to Grand-Pré National Historic Site will be able to better visualize the old parish cemetery of St-Charles-des-Mines, dating to 1688 - 1755. We’ve been working with Parks Canada to develop new interpretive signage for this part of the site, based on geophysical surveys conducted as part of our ongoing research program.
This cemetery has a fascinating back story and the history of its study is also pretty interesting.
To begin, establishing a parish was one of the first concerns of the early French inhabitants of Les Mines, the people we today call Acadians. They had come from the parish of St-Jean-Baptiste at Port-Royal in the early 1680s, and when Abbé St-Vallier, the future Bishop of Québec, visited Grand-Pré in 1686, the inhabitants asked him to send them a priest, promising in exchange to build a church and presbytery. By the time Joseph Gargas counted the inhabitants in his census of 1687-88, both priest and church were present.
The church, cemetery, and priest’s house were never mapped at large scale during the pre-Deportation period, and they make only the briefest of mentions in the historical record. Ironically, some of the best clues as to the lay of the ecclesiastical land at Grand-Pré come from the 1755 journal and orderly book of Lieut.-Col. John Winslow, the destroyer of the community and the man tasked with overseeing the deportation of the French inhabitants living in central Nova Scotia.
Following the deportations, New England immigrants from Connecticut took up these lands and established Horton Township. They and their descendants preserved a few memories of St-Charles-des-Mines, including its general location. Following the publication of Longfellow’s famous poem, Evangeline, in 1847, and the subsequent tourism boom facilitated by steam travel, these half-forgotten memories were reactivated.
Treasure hunters soon started digging for ‘relics’ at the supposed site of the old church. Two depressions had long been noted in this field, one said to be the church and the other the priest’s house. Near the first, an old well was found and immediately christened ‘Evangelin’s Well’. You can still see it on the site today.
Next, out in the field about 100m (330’) to the east, a wooden coffin was disinterred. Several, in fact, were exhumed over the next couple of decades. One was put on display at the local train station, and another in the parlour of a nearby guest house. It was largely in response to these actions that local businessman, politician, poet, and historian (and Acadian descendant) John Frederic Herbin purchased the land and sought to transform it into a commemorative park.
Herbin quarried stones from the nearby ruined cellars and built a monumental cross to mark the cemetery’s location. You can still see this as well, but it is not the original one. Decades of deterioration prompted Parks Canada staff to completely rebuild it in the early 1980s. This project afforded an opportunity to conduct archaeological investigations to see if graves were indeed present nearby. And, there were.
A modestly-sized excavation unit was opened on the north side of Herbin’s cross and the topsoil was removed. There, neatly outlined in the subsoil, four closely-spaced grave shafts could be discerned in the subsoil. They were visible because the natural soil layers were mixed during those long-ago burials. Parks Canada archaeologists continued their investigations by completely excavating one of the grave shafts, but instead of a coffin, they found only coffin nails and decayed traces of wood where the coffin had been. No human remains were observed.
This was largely where matters rested for a few more decades. Cultural memory had identified the cemetery’s location, John Frederic Herbin had memorialized it, and modern archaeology had verified it. Still, we did not know the cemetery’s extent. Was Herbin’s cross in the middle of the cemetery, or at one side?
There is also some question as to the number of burials. The surviving parish registers date only from 1707 – 1748. The settlement’s first 20 years and last 7 years are missing because the first and last of these books were destroyed by flooding caused by a hurricane in Louisiana in the late 1800s. The surviving books record 118 burials in which the individual’s remains were explicitly stated as having been interred in the parish cemetery, but dozens of others are listed as being buried - approximately 180 in total – and certainly most of these were interred in the parish cemetery.
We first attempted to map the unmarked burials with geophysics and additional archaeological excavations around 2010. By 2013-14, we had conducted a thorough program of geophysical investigations with electrical conductivity and magnetic susceptibility, but the results did not reveal convincing evidence of the cemetery. With Parks Canada’s permission, therefore, we took a more basic approach: archaeological excavation. Our method was non-intrusive, and we proceeded by removing only the topsoil in a narrow excavation unit, and the results successfully mapped the cemetery’s east and west boundaries. More impressive still, we uncovered part of the palisade line that John Winslow’s men erected in 1755 to protect their camp. It is important to note that no human remains were encountered during these investigations, as our excavations were only deep enough to detect and map the tops of the grave shafts.
Our most recent investigations took place between 2017-20 and were aided by ground-penetrating radar (GPR). This method is generally more effective for mapping graves than the previous methods, and this was certainly the case here. We used a 500MHz Noggin instrument and detected a great many unmarked burials: 289 to be specific.
The radar detected more burials than are listed in the parish registers, but we have already seen that this important documentary source is incomplete. There are also many years for which no burials are recorded in the surviving registers, and we know that there were stretches of time when no priests were present. Perhaps there are gaps in the record.
Even if so, the number of likely graves we mapped with GPR probably falls short of the total. Modern features such as hedges, rose bushes, trees, and even Herbin’s cross itself, obstructed the survey in many places. We can’t do very much about this. Therefore, I suspect the true number of burials likely exceeds 300.
Many of the reflective features we observed in the GPR data that we identified as graves were small in spatial extent. Sometimes with this kind of work, the instrument will detect only a part of a burial; sometimes it won’t see a burial at all. In many cases with this particular set of surveys, and you can see them in the map below, I think we are seeing the burials of infants and children.
Some might regard a high number of such burials as conflicting with the notion that old Acadie was an especially healthy and prosperous place. Compared with peer societies, it was relatively healthy and prosperous. However, in a world before modern medicine, especially before antibiotics and antivirals, even mild infections could be deadly. The first year of life was especially precarious, and we see confirmatory evidence of this fact in the surviving parish registers. Of the ca. 180 recorded burials in the parish registers, at least 32 are of infants.
Generally speaking, the graves we observed both archaeologically and through GPR are aligned east-west, in accordance with standard practices of the day. And, unlike in modern cemeteries, in which burials are arranged in orderly rows, this was a burying ground. Graves were often closely spaced, sometimes cutting into one another. If I had to guess, I’d suspect that families buried their dead loved ones in certain areas of the burying ground.
They may have once been memorialized with perishable markers, such as wooden crosses, but these have long ago disappeared and we have seen no evidence of carved stone grave markers. Burials at St-Charles-des-Mines – like others from this period – are also quite shallow. The one excavated by Parks Canada in 1982 was found to be only 70cm (or 2.3’) deep. Others are deeper, as detected by radar, and still others may exist at a greater depth, but beyond the range of the radar, whose effective depth of pe*******on was limited to about 1.4m (4.5’) in this dense, clay-rich soil.
All the above is an outline only. One could write a hefty article, or indeed a small book, on this fascinating place. In fact, we’ve applied for funding for an even more advanced GPR, and if we are successful in obtaining this instrument, this is one of the sites to which we hope to return.
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If you’d like to read more about this work, elements of it have been published in the following places (with more to come):
Fowler, Jonathan and Lockerby, Earle. 2025. John Winslow at Grand-Pré: Diaries of the Acadian Deportations Volume 2. Kentville: Gaspereau Press.
Fowler, Jonathan and Noël, Stéphane. 2017. Poetry is Always Truer than History: The Curious Parentage of Acadian Archaeology, in Brooks, A. and Mehler, N. (eds.) The Country Where My Heart Is: Historical Archaeologies of Nationalism and National Identity. Gainesville: University of Florida Press, pp. 37-68.
Fowler, Jonathan. 2016. John Winslow's Fingerprints: A Case of Archaeological Detection. American-Canadian Genealogist, vol. 42, no. 145, pp. 39-45.
Also, here are a couple of great articles that involve interpretations of the parish registers of St-Jean-Baptiste in Port-Royal / Annapolis Royal:
Hynes, Gisa. 1973. Some Aspects of the Demography of Port Royal, 1650-1755. Acadiensis, vol. 3, no. 1, pp. 3-17.
https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/Acadiensis/article/view/11337
LeBlanc, Ronnie-Gilles. 2015. La Société historique acadienne, Les Cahiers, vol. 46, no. 2, pp. 57-78.
https://societehistoriqueacadienne.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/vol-46-no-2.pdf