Remarkable providences! An eighteenth-century Jesuit is blogging now at Charlevoix (“a blog about New France”). Those of you in the know will recognize the blogger as the late Pierre F.-X. Charlevoix (1682-1761), who is considered one of the first historians of New France. (I say one of the first historians of New France, because I consider the unsung annalists of women’s religious orders to be historians of New France as well–and most of them in the eighteenth century were Canadian-born historians, not imports like Charlevoix.)
Here’s a little flava, a brief comparison of New England and New France in his Journal of a Voyage to North-America (London, 1761; Readex Microprint, 1966, in two volumes), an English translation of his 1744 French travel narrative:
To judge of the two colonies by the way of life, behaviour, and speech of the inhabitants, nobody would hesitate to say that ours were the most flourishing. In New-England and the other provinces of the continent of America, subject to the British empire, there prevails an opulence which they are utterly at a loss how to use; and in New France, a poverty hid by an air of being in easy circumstances, which seems not at all studied. Trade, and the cultivation of their plantations strengthen the first, whereas the second is supported by the industry of its inhabitants, and the taste of the nation diffuses over it something infinitely pleasing. The English planter amasses wealth, and never makes any superfluous expence; the French inhabitant again enjoys what he has acquired, and often makes a parade of what he is not possessed of. That labours for his posterity; this again leaves his offspring involved in the same necessities he was in himself at his first setting out, and to extricate themselves as they can. The English Americans are averse to war, because they have a great deal to lose; they take no care to manage the Indians from a belief that they stand in no need of them. The French youth, for very different reasons, abominate the thoughts of peace, and live well with the natives, whose esteem they easily gain in time of war, and their friendship at all times. I might carry the parallel a great way farther, but I am obliged to conclude (I: 113-114).
Ah, yes, the old familiar stereotypes: the nation of shopkeepers, people who know the price of everything but the value of nothing, and the nation of good-time Jean-Baptistes who cultivate and are loyal to their Native allies. (Anglophone American historian Francis Parkman would agree with these stereotypes a century later, although he’d praise the cautious planning of the English and deplore the emphasis on living well and the closeness with Indians that Charlevoix admired.)
If seventeenth and eighteenth-century Jesuit missionaries had Twitter, Instagram, and blogs, isn’t this how the Jesuit Relations would have been published–in real time, and (perhaps) with less artifice? Or just a different, genre-driven kind of artifice: because who makes their lives look more boring or less eventful online than they really are? Just imagine the kind of rebellion that Pontiac and others could have organized by flashmobbing English forts with French muskets throughout the Great Lakes in 1763!
Now that I think of it, maybe I should start a Twitter account for Esther Wheelwright. What do you think? Disrespectful, weird, or unfunny? (All three?)
9 thoughts on “Dead priest blogging! Next stop, Twitter?”
I want to see George Washington tweet the fight with Jumonville.
By “New England” he means “the English people down there,” the way they meant by “New France” all of the French colony? The New England northeast as a seat of “opulence” is an interesting concept, though. And averse to war? 1744 is the year they went on the offensive and took Louisbourg, isn’t it? The relative taste for accumulation and generational transfer versus consumption and display is an interesting sociological observation, though, whether accurate or not. How are his data samples being collected and curated?
Nice picture, though. I’d say start the account for Esther, but unless she would generate the actual content, you’d be stretched a bit too thin. I’d like to hear Paul Revere trash-talking after he got detained by the authorities while the other couriers continued scampering into the night. (And into obscurity, if not oblivion, it should be said).
Definitely start an account for Esther – she can join Chaucer doth Tweet (@LeVostreGC)and William Shakespeare (@Shakespeare). I look forward to her take on the present day!
I was thinking of @LeVostreGC and @Shakespeare when I wrote this post yesterday. Those dudes are pretty hilarious!
Just when history blogging seemed in the summer doldrums, one of my fave bloggers salutes one of my other faves.
Thanks, Christopher! And thanks too for sending the good father a link to this post in his comments section.
I want Abigail Adams on Twitter, advising on how to cash in on buying up war debt cheap and selling high.
I enjoy @LizziePepys who gives voice to Samuel Pepys long-suffering wife. We get to see the ‘other side’ of the famous diary, and is a model for a historical figure where you need to generate content, rather than using their own historical texts.
Warm thanks for the props, Historiann — and Chris!