Of course, this map does not show whether the marsh was dyked or otherwise used by the inhabitants. However, knowing that the marsh was present, I could look for it in other places. For example, I had already decided to consult the cadastre – a detailed survey map of France from the early nineteenth century – in order to better understand the layout of the fields and villages in the Loudunais. I soon determined that the marsh had very much been incorporated into the rural economy through an intricate system of drainage canals.

Canals were clearly indicated in blue to distinguish them from roads and other linear features. Dykes were also named, in this case, Ste Catherine’s Dyke protected an area of meadow and arable called La Pointe because it was where two major canals came together and formed a triangle. There is another revealing clue in this image. In the Poitevin Marsh, a dyke was typically called a “bot” and names were normally reserved for the largest drainage canals – the Canal of the Five Abbots, the Canal of Clain, etc. However, in Acadia, dykes were usually referred to as “levées” and large communal dykes might receive names. Thus, the naming of this dyke as the “Levée de Sainte Catherine” had much more in common with Acadian practices than with those of the Poitevin Marsh.

I further realized that drained marshland was deemed particularly valuable in the Loudunais, just as it came to be in Acadia. Local lords developed large, centralized farms (métairies) on these properties and then leased them out to wealthier peasants called ploughmen (laboureurs). These farms included houses, barns, pasture, and fields. In comparison, the much larger plain had been subdivided into hundreds of tiny rectangular plots. Most farmers had to work many of these plots across several different fields to make ends meet. The following image of one of these marshland farms, called the Burnt Cabin (la cabane brulée), also indicates a ford (gué) where a road crosses a canal of significant depth and width.

With the help of these maps, I knew that there was a large marsh in the part of the Loudunais hypothesized to be the origin of several Acadian families. I also knew that by the early nineteenth century, this marshland had been drained and brought under cultivation using methods similar to those used in Acadia. The last step was to prove that this drainage and cultivation had existed during the early seventeenth century, since the colonists were recruited by Charles de Menou in 1642-43.[3]

The documentary record helped fill the gap. First, notary records revealed leases and other transactions concerning these marshland farms during the first half of the eighteenth century. Then, in the papers of the parish of Martaizé, I found reference to a long-standing legal dispute during the seventeenth century. Specifically, the priest had sued the leaseholders of the marshland farms for not paying the tithe. The case was only decided in 1680, and extended back to at least the 1630s. Thus, whether or not the colonists had built dykes themselves, they probably knew someone that had, and were certainly aware that marshland farming was a new and potentially profitable endeavour being pursued by local landowners.

Examining historical maps provided key clues that helped me to establish a link between the Loudunais and Acadia. There is, of course, still more work to do. In general, maps can provide a wealth of information, a unique point of view to visualize a place, and also help determine what to look for in the documentary record. They are a great place to start or to continue a research project. Sometimes pictures really are worth a thousand words!