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Cozzens. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + .vbreak2 { margin-bottom: 2em;} + .vbreak3 { margin-bottom: 3em;} + .vbreak4 { margin-bottom: 4em;} + + .sig1 {margin-bottom: 0em;} + + .sig2 {margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 2em; text-align: right;} + + ins.correction { + text-decoration:none; /* replace default underline.. */ + border-bottom: thin dotted gray; /* ..with delicate gray line */ + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + } /* page numbers */ + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .spaced {letter-spacing: 5px;font-size:80%;} + .toclist {text-align: justify; padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em;} + .ralign {text-align:right;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .centpoem {margin-left:50%; margin-right:50%; text-align: left; font-size:80%;} + .centpoem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: -6em; margin-right: -12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .centpoem span.poemsig {display: block; margin-right: -12em; text-align:right} + .centpoem br {display: none;} + .centpoem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + + .headjust {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + .justleft {float:left; text-align: left;} + .justright {float:right; text-align: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i24 {display: block; margin-left: 24em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i34 {display: block; margin-left: 34em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Acadia, by Frederic S. Cozzens + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Acadia + or, A Month with the Blue Noses + +Author: Frederic S. Cozzens + +Release Date: November 8, 2007 [EBook #23409] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ACADIA *** + + + + +Produced by A www.PGDP.net Volunteer, Brownfox and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="image002" name="image002"></a> + <img src="images/image002.jpg" + alt="This, with the antique kirtle and picturesque petticoat is an Acadian portrait." + title="This, with the antique kirtle and picturesque petticoat is an Acadian portrait." /> + <p class="center"><i>"This, with the antique kirtle and picturesque petticoat +is an Acadian portrait." PAGE <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.</i></p> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="image003" name="image003"></a> + <img src="images/image003.jpg" + alt="There is nothing modern in the face or drapery of this figure. She might have stepped out of Normandy a century ago." + title="There is nothing modern in the face or drapery of this figure. She might have stepped out of Normandy a century ago." /> + <p class="center"><i>"There is nothing modern in the face or drapery of this figure. + She might have stepped out of Normandy a century ago." PAGE <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</i></p> +</div> + +<h1>ACADIA;</h1> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">or,</span></p> + +<h2>A MONTH WITH THE BLUE NOSES.</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">by</span></p> + +<h3>FREDERIC S. COZZENS,</h3> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap"><span class="spaced">author of "sparrowgrass papers."</span></span></p> +<p class="vbreak3"></p> + + +<div class="centpoem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">This is Acadia—this is the land<br /></span> +<span class="i6">That weary souls have sighed for;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">This is Acadia—this is the land<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Heroic hearts have died for:<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Yet, strange to tell, this promised land<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Has never been applied for!<br /></span> +<span class="poemsig"><span class="smcap">Porter.</span></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="vbreak2"></p> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK:</p> + +<p class="center">DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU STREET.</p> + +<p class="center">1859.</p> +<p class="vbreak2"></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Entered</span> according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by</p> + +<p class="center">FREDERIC S. COZZENS,</p> + +<p class="center">In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the +Southern District of New York.</p> + +<p class="vbreak4"></p> + +<div class="headjust"> +<div class="justleft"> +<span class="smcap">W.H. Tinson</span>, Stereotyper. +</div> + +<div class="justright"> +<span class="smcap">Geo. Russell</span> & Co., Printers. +</div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>As I have a sort of religion in literature, believing that no author can +justly intrude upon the public without feeling that his writings may be +of some benefit to mankind, I beg leave to apologize for this little +book. I know, no critic can tell me better than I know myself, how much +it falls short of what might have been done by an abler pen. Yet it is +something—an index, I should say, to something better. The French in +America may sometime find a champion. For my own part, I would that the +gentler principles which governed them, and the English under William +Penn, and the Dutch under the enlightened rule of the States General, +had obtained here, instead of the narrower, the more penurious, and most +prescriptive policy of their neighbors.</p> + +<p>I am indebted to Judge Haliburton's "History of Nova Scotia" for the +main body of historical facts in this volume. Let me acknowledge my +obligations. His researches and impartiality are most creditable, and +worthy of respect and attention. I have also drawn as liberally as time +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</a></span>and space would permit from chronicles contemporary with the events of +those early days, as well as from a curious collection of items relating +to the subject, cut from the London newspapers a hundred years ago, and +kindly furnished me by Geo. P. Putnam, Esq. These are always the surest +guides. To Mrs. Kate Williams, of Providence, R. I., I am indebted also. +Her story of the "Neutral French," no doubt, inspired the author of the +most beautiful pastoral in the language. The "Evangeline" of Longfellow, +and the "Pauline" of this lady's legend, are pictures of the same +individual, only drawn by different hands.</p> + +<p>A word in regard to the two Acadian portraits. These are literal +ambrotypes, to which Sarony has added a few touches of his artistic +crayon. It may interest the reader to know that these are the first, the +only likenesses of the real Evangelines of Acadia. The women of +Chezzetcook appear at day-break in the city of Halifax, and as soon as +the sun is up vanish like the dew. They have usually a basket of fresh +eggs, a brace or two of worsted socks, a bottle of fir-balsam to sell. +These comprise their simple commerce. When the market-bell rings you +find them not. To catch such fleeting phantoms, and to transfer them to +the frontispiece of a book published here, is like painting the +burnished wings of a humming-bird. A friend, however, undertook the +task. He rose before the sun, he bought eggs, worsted socks, and +fir-balsam of the Acadians. By constant attentions he became acquainted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span>with a pair of Acadian women, niece and aunt. Then he proposed the +matter to them:</p> + +<p>"I want you to go with me to the daguerreotype gallery."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To have your portraits taken."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To send to a friend in New York."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"To be put in a book."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind 'what for,' will you go?"</p> + +<p>Aunt and niece—both together in a breath—"No."</p> + +<p>So my friend, who was a wise man, wrote to the priest of the settlement +of Chezzetcook, to explain the "what for," and the consequence +was—these portraits! But these women had a terrible time at the head of +the first flight of stairs. Not an inch would these shy creatures budge +beyond. At last, the wife of the operator induced them to rise to the +high flight that led to the Halifax skylight, and there they were +painted by the sun, as we see them now.</p> + +<p>Nothing more! Ring the bell, prompter, and draw the curtain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2"></p> + +<table cellpadding="10" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Vague Rumors of Nova Scotia—A Fortnight upon Salt Water—Interesting +Sketch of the Atlantic—Halifax!—Determine to stay in the +Province—Province Building and Pictures—Coast Scenery—Liberty in +Language, and Aspirations of the People—Evangeline and Relics of +Acadia—Market-Place—The Encampment at Point Pleasant—Kissing +Bridge—The "Himalaya"—A Sabbath in a Garrison Town—Grand Celebration +of the Peace, and Natal Day of Halifax—And a Hint of a Visit to +Chezzetcook</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">13</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Fog clears up—The One Idea not comprehended by the American Mind—A +June Morning in the Province—The Beginning of the Evangeliad—Intuitive +Perception of Genius—The Forest Primeval—Acadian Peasants—A Negro +Settlement—Deer's Castle—The Road to Chezzetcook—Acadian Scenery—A +Glance at the Early History of Acadia—First Encroachments of the +English—The Harbor and Village of Chezzetcook, etc., etc.</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">34</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">A Romp at Three Fathom Harbor—The Moral Condition of the Acadians—The +Wild Flowers of Nova Scotia—Mrs. Deer's Wit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>—No +Fish—Picton—The Balaklava Schooner—And a Voyage to +<ins class="correction" +title="Transcriber's note: original reads Louisburg">Louisburgh</ins></td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">58</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Voyage of the "Balaklava"—Something of a Fog—A Novel +Sensation—Picton bursts out—"Nothing to do"—Breakfast under Way—A +Phantom Boat—Mackerel—Gone, Hook and Line—The Colonists—Sectionalism +and Prejudices—Cod-fishing and an Unexpected Banquet—Past the old +French Town—A Pretty Respectable Breeze—We get past the +Rocks— +<ins class="correction" + title="Transcriber's note: original reads Louisburg">Louisburgh</ins></td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">77</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Louisburgh—The Great French Fortress—Incidents of the Old French +War—Relics of the Siege—Description of the Town—The two +Expeditions—A Yankee <i>ruse de guerre</i>—The Rev. Samuel Moody's +Grace—Wolfe's Landing—The Fisherman's Hutch—The Lost Coaster—The +Fisheries—Picton tries his hand at a Fish-pugh</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">102</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">A most acceptable Invitation—An Evening in the Hutch—Old Songs—Picton +in High Feather—Wolfe and Montcalm—Reminiscences of the +Siege—Anecdotes of Wolfe—A Touch of Rhetoric and its Consequences</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">121</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The other side of the Harbor—A Foraging Party—Disappointment—Twilight +at Louisburgh—Long Days and Early Mornings—A Visit and View of an +Interior—A Shark Story—Picton inquires about a Measure—Hospitality +and the Two Brave Boys—Proposals for a Trip Overland to Sydney</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">133<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">A Blue-Nosed Pair of the most Cerulean Hue—Prospects of a Hard +Bargain—Case of Necessity—Romantic Lake with an Unromantic Name—The +Discussion concerning Oatmeal—Danger of the Gasterophili—McGibbet +makes a Proposition—Farewell to the "Balaklava"—A Midnight +Journey—Sydney—Boat Excursion to the Micmacs—Picton takes off his +Mackintosh</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">154</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Micmac Camp—Indian Church-warden and Broker—Interior of a +Wigwam—A Madonna—A Digression—Malcolm Discharged—An Indian +Bargain—The Inn Parlor, and a Comfortable Night's Rest</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">176</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Over the Bay—A Gigantic Dumb Waiter—Erebus—Reflections—White and +Black Squares of the Chess-Board—Leave-taking—An Interruption—The +Aibstract Preencipels of Feenance</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">185</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Bras d'Or Road—Farewell to Picton—Home, Sweet Home—The Rob Roys +of Cape Breton—Note and Query—Chapel Island—St. +Peter's—Enterprise—The Strait of Canseau—West River—The Last +Out-post of the Scottish Chiefs</td> +<td class="ralign" valign="bottom">196</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Ride from West River—A Fellow Passenger—Parallels of History—One +Hundred Romances—Baron de Castine—His Character—Made Chief of the +Abenaquis—Duke of York's Charter—Encroachments of the +Puritans—Church's Indian Wars—False Reports—Reflections</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">212</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Truro—On the Road to Halifax—Drive to the Left—A Member of the +Foreign Legion—Irish Wit at Government Expense—The first Battle of the +Legion—Ten Pounds Reward—Sir John Gaspard's Revenge—The Shubenacadie +Lakes—Dartmouth Ferry, and the Hotel Waverley</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">224</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Halifax again—Hotel Waverley—"Gone the Old Familiar Faces"—The Story +of Marie de la Tour</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">237</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Bedford Basin—Legend of the two French Admirals—An Invitation to +the Queen—Visit to the Prince's Lodge—A Touch of Old England—The +Ruins</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">251</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Last Night—Farewell, Hotel Waverley—Friends Old and New—What +followed the Marriage of La Tour le Borgne—Invasion of Col. Church</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">258</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">A few more Threads of History—Acadia again lost—The Oath of +Allegiance—Settlement of Halifax—The brave Three Hundred—Massacre at +Norridgewoack—Le Père Ralle</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">269</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">On the road to Windsor—The great Nova Scotia Railway—A Fellow +Passenger—Cape Sable Shipwrecks—Seals—Ponies—Windsor—Sam Slick—A +lively Example</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">279</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">Windsor-upon-Avon—Ride to the Gasperau—The Basin of +Minas—Blomidon—This is the Acadian Land—Basil, the Blacksmith—A +Yankee Settlement—Useless Reflections</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">293<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td colspan="2" class="center"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist">The Valley of Acadia—A Morning Ride to the Dykes—An unexpected +Wild-duck Chase—High Tides—The Gasperau—Sunset—The Lamp of +History—Conclusion</td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">302</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="toclist"><span class="smcap"><a href="#Appendix">Appendix</a></span></td> +<td class="centre" valign="bottom">317</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ACADIA" id="ACADIA"></a>ACADIA.</h2> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Vague Rumors of Nova Scotia—A Fortnight upon Salt Water—Interesting +Sketch of the Atlantic—Halifax!—Determine to stay in the +Province—Province Building and Pictures—Coast Scenery—Liberty in +Language, and Aspirations of the People—Evangeline and Relics of +Acadia—Market-Place—The Encampment at Point Pleasant—Kissing +Bridge—The "Himalaya"—A Sabbath in a Garrison Town—Grand Celebration +of the Peace, and Natal Day of Halifax—And a Hint of a Visit to +Chezzetcook.</p> + +<p>It is pleasant to visit Nova Scotia in the month of June. Pack up your +flannels and your fishing tackle, leave behind you your prejudices and +your summer clothing, take your trout-pole in one hand and a copy of +Haliburton in the other, and step on board a Cunarder at Boston. In +thirty-six hours you are in the loyal little province, and above you +floats the red flag and the cross of St. George. My word for it, you +will not regret the trip.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> That the idea of visiting Nova Scotia ever +struck any living person as something peculiarly pleasant and cheerful, +is not within the bounds of probability. Very rude people are wont to +speak of Halifax in connection with the name of a place never alluded to +in polite society—except by clergymen. As for the rest of the Province, +there are certain vague rumors of extensive and constant fogs, but +nothing more. The land is a sort of terra incognita. Many take it to be +a part of Canada, and others firmly believe it is somewhere in +Newfoundland.</p> + +<p>In justice to Nova Scotia, it is proper to state that the Province is a +province by itself; that it hath its own governor and parliament, and +its own proper and copper currency. How I chanced to go there was +altogether a matter of destiny. It was a severe illness—a gastric +disorder of the most obstinate kind, that cast me upon its balmy shores. +One day, after a protracted relapse, as I was creeping feebly along +Broadway, sunning myself, like a March fly on a window-pane, whom should +I meet but St. Leger, my friend. "You look pale," said St. Leger. To +which I replied by giving him a full, complete, and accurate history of +my ailments, after the manner of valetudinarians. "Why do you not try +change of air?" he asked; and then briskly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> added, "You could spare a +couple of weeks or so, could you not, to go to the Springs?" "I could," +said I, feebly. "Then," said St. Leger, "take the two weeks' time, but +do not go to the Springs. Spend your fortnight on the salt water—get +out of sight of land—that is the thing for you." And so, shaking my +hand warmly, St. Leger passed on, and left me to my reflections.</p> + +<p>A fortnight upon salt water? Whither? Cape Cod at once loomed up; +Nantucket, and Martha's Vineyard. "And why not the Bermudas?" said a +voice within me; "the enchanted Islands of Prospero, and Ariel, and +Miranda; of Shakspeare, and Raleigh, and Irving?" And echo answered: +"Why not?"</p> + +<p>It is but a day-and-a-half's sail to Halifax; thence, by a steamer, to +those neighboring isles; for the Curlew and the Merlin, British +mail-boats, leave Halifax fortnightly for the Bermudas. A thousand miles +of life-invigorating atmosphere—a week upon salt water, and you are +amid the magnificent scenery of the Tempest! And how often had the vague +desire impressed me—how often, indeed, had I visited, in imagination, +those beautiful scenes, those islands which have made Shakspeare our +near kinsman; which are part and parcel of the romantic history of Sir +Walter Raleigh!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> For, even if he do describe them, in his strong old +Saxon, as "the Bermudas, a hellish sea for Thunder, and Lightning, and +Storms," yet there is a charm even in this description, for doubtless +these very words gave a title to the great drama of William of +Stratford, and suggested the idea of</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The still-vexed Bermoöthes."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Ah, yes! and who that has read Irving's "Three Kings of Bermuda" has not +felt the influence of those Islas Encantadas—those islands of palms and +coral, of orange groves and ambergris! "A fortnight?" said I, quoting +St. Leger; "I will take a month for it." And so, in less than a week +from the date of his little prescription, I was bidding farewell to some +dear friends, from the deck of the "Canada," at East Boston wharf, as +Captain Lang, on the top of our wheel-house, shouted out, in a very +briny voice: "Let go the starboard bow chain—go slow!"</p> + +<p>It would be presumptuous in me to speak of the Atlantic, from the +limited acquaintance I had with it. The note-book of an invalid for two +days at sea, with a heavy ground swell, and the wind in the most +favorable quarter, can scarcely be attractive. As the breeze freshened, +and the tars of old England ran aloft, to strip from the black sails +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> wrappers of white canvas that had hid them when in port; and as +these leathern, bat-like pinions spread out on each side of the funnel, +there was a moment's glimpse of the picturesque; but it was a glimpse +only, and no more. One does not enjoy the rise and dip of the bow of a +steamer, at first, however graceful it may be in the abstract. To be +sure, there were some things else interesting. For instance, three +brides aboard! And one of them lovely enough to awaken interest, on sea +or land, in any body but a Halifax passenger. I hope those fair ladies +will have a pleasant tour, one and all, and that the view they take of +the great world, so early in life, will make them more contented with +that minor world, henceforth to be within the limits of their dominion. +Lullaby to the young wives! there will be rocking enough anon!</p> + +<p>But we coasted along pleasantly enough the next day, within sight of the +bold headlands of Maine; the sky and sea clear of vapor, except the long +reek from the steamer's pipe. And then came nightfall and the northern +stars; and, later at night, a new luminary on the edge of the +horizon—Sambro' light; and then a sudden quenching of stars, and +horizon, lighthouse, ropes, spars, and smoke stack; the sounds of hoarse +voices of command in the obscurity; a trampling of men; and then down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +went the anchor in the ooze, and the Canada was fog-bound in the old +harbor of Chebucto for the night, within a few miles of the city.</p> + +<p>But with the early dawn, we awoke to hear the welcome sounds of the +engines in motion, and when we reached the deck, the mist was drifted +with sunlight, and rose and fell in luminous billows on water and shore, +and then lifted, lingered, and vanished!</p> + +<p>"And this is Halifax?" said I, as that quaint, mouldy old town poked its +wooden gables through the fog of the second morning. "This is Halifax? +This the capital of Nova Scotia? This the city that harbored those loyal +heroes of the Revolution, who gallantly and gayly fought, and bled, and +ran for their king? Ah! you brave old Tories; you staunch upholders of +the crown; cavaliers without ringlets or feathers, russet boots or +steeple-crown hats, it seems as if you were still hovering over this +venerable tabernacle of seven hundred gables, and wreathing each +particular ridge-pole, pigeon-hole, and shingle with a halo of fog."</p> + +<p>The plank was laid, and the passengers left the steamer. There were a +few vehicles on the wharf for the accommodation of strangers; square, +black, funereal-like, wheeled sarcophagi, eminently suggestive of +burials and crape. Of course I did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> ride in one, on account of +unpleasant associations; but, placing my trunk in charge of a cart-boy +with a long-tailed dray, and a diminutive pony, I walked through the +silent streets towards "The Waverley."</p> + +<p>It was an inspiriting morning, that which I met upon the well-docked +shores of Halifax, and although the side-walks of the city were neither +bricked nor paved with flags, and the middle street was in its original +and aboriginal clay, yet there was novelty in making its acquaintance. +Everybody was asleep in that early fog; and when everybody woke up, it +was done so quietly that the change was scarcely apparent.</p> + +<p>But the "Merlin," British mailer, is to sail at noon for the Shakspeare +Island, and breakfast must be discussed, and then once more I am with +you, my anti-bilious ocean. It chanced, however, I heard at breakfast, +that the "Curlew," the mate of the "Merlin," had been lost a short time +before at sea, and as there was but one, and not two steamers on the +route, so that I would be detained longer with Prospero and Miranda than +might be comfortable in the approaching hot weather, it came to pass +that I had reluctantly to forego the projected voyage, and anchor my +trunk of tropical clothing in room Number Twenty, Hotel Waverley. It was +a great disappointment, to be sure, after such bril<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>liant +anticipations—but what is life without philosophy? When we cannot get +what we wish, let us take what we may. Let the "Merlin" sail! I will +visit, instead of those Islas Encantadas, "The Acadian land on the shore +of the Basin of Minas." Let the "Merlin" sail! I will see the ruined +walls of Louisburgh, and the harbors that once sheltered the Venetian +sailor, Cabot. "Let her sail!" said I, and when the morn passed I saw +her slender thread of smoke far off on the glassy ocean, without a sigh +of regret, and resolutely turned my face from the promised palms to +welcome the sturdy pines of the province.</p> + +<p>The city hill of Halifax rises proudly from its wharves and shipping in +a multitude of mouse-colored wooden houses, until it is crowned by the +citadel. As it is a garrison town, as well as a naval station, you meet +in the streets red-coats and blue-jackets without number; yonder, with a +brilliant staff, rides the Governor, Sir John Gaspard le Marchant, and +here, in a carriage, is Admiral Fanshawe, C.B., of the "Boscawen" +Flag-ship. Every thing is suggestive of impending hostilities; war, in +burnished trappings, encounters you at the street corners, and the air +vibrates from time to time with bugles, fifes, and drums. But oh! what a +slow place it is! Even two Crimean regiments with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> medals and +decorations could not wake it up. The little old houses seem to look +with wondrous apathy as these pass by, as though they had given each +other a quiet nudge with their quaint old gables, and whispered: "Keep +still!"</p> + +<p>I wandered up and down those old streets in search of something +picturesque, but in vain; there was scarcely any thing remarkable to +arrest or interest a stranger. Such, too, might have been the appearance +of other places I wot of, if those staunch old loyalists had had their +way in the days gone by!</p> + +<p>But the Province House, which is built of a sort of yellow sand-stone, +with pillars in front, and trees around it, is a well-proportioned +building, with an air of great solidity and respectability. There are in +it very fine full-lengths of King George II. and Queen Caroline, and two +full-lengths of King George III. and Queen Charlotte; a full-length of +Chief-Justice Haliburton, and another full-length, by Benjamin West, of +another chief-justice, in a red robe and a formidable wig. Of these +portraits, the two first-named are the most attractive; there is +something so gay and festive in the appearance of King George II. and +Queen Caroline, so courtly and sprightly, so graceful and amiable, that +one is tempted to exclaim: "Bless the painter! what a genius he had!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now, after taking a look at Dalhousie College with the parade in +front, and the square town-clock, built by his graceless Highness the +Duke of Kent, let us climb Citadel Hill, and see the formidable +protector of town and harbor. Lively enough it is, this great stone +fortress, with its soldiers, swarming in and out like bees, and the +glimpses of country and harbor are surpassingly beautiful; but just at +the margin of this slope below us, is the street, and that dark fringe +of tenements skirting the edge of this green glacis is, I fear me, +filled with vicious inmates. Yonder, where the blackened ruins of three +houses are visible, a sailor was killed and thrown out of a window not +long since, and his shipmates burned the houses down in consequence; +there is something strikingly suggestive in looking upon this picture +and on that.</p> + +<p>But if you cast your eyes over yonder magnificent bay, where vessels +bearing flags of all nations are at anchor, and then let your vision +sweep past and over the islands to the outlets beyond, where the quiet +ocean lies, bordered with fog-banks that loom ominously at the +boundary-line of the horizon, you will see a picture of marvellous +beauty; for the coast scenery here transcends our own sea-shores, both +in color and outline. And behind us again stretch large green plains, +dotted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> with cottages, and bounded with undulating hills, with now and +then glimpses of blue water; and as we walk down Citadel Hill, we feel +half-reconciled to Halifax, its queer little streets, its quaint, mouldy +old gables, its soldiers and sailors, its fogs, cabs, penny and +half-penny tokens, and all its little, odd, outlandish peculiarities. +Peace be with it! after all, it has a quiet charm for an invalid!</p> + +<p>The inhabitants of Halifax exhibit no trifling degree of freedom in +language for a loyal people; they call themselves "Halligonians." This +title, however, is sometimes pronounced "'Alligonians," by the more +rigid, as a mark of respect to the old country. But innovation has been +at work even here, for the majority of Her Majesty's subjects aspirate +the letter H. Alas for innovation! who knows to what results this +trifling error may lead? When Mirabeau went to the French court without +buckles in his shoes, the barriers of etiquette were broken down, and +the Swiss Guards fought in vain.</p> + +<p>There is one virtue in humanity peculiarly grateful to an invalid; to +him most valuable, by him most appreciated, namely, hospitality. And +that the 'Alligonians are a kind and good people, abundant in +hospitality, let me attest. One can scarcely visit a city occupied by +those whose grandsires<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> would have hung your rebel grandfathers (if they +had caught them), without some misgivings. But I found the old Tory +blood of three Halifax generations, yet warm and vital, happy to accept +again a rebellious kinsman, a real live Yankee, in spite of Sam Slick +and the Revolution.</p> + +<p>Let us take a stroll through these quiet streets. This is the Province +House with its Ionic porch, and within it are the halls of Parliament, +and offices of government. You see there is a red-coat with his +sentry-box at either corner. Behind the house again are two other +sentries on duty, all glittering with polished brass, and belted, +gloved, and bayoneted, in splendid style. Of what use are these +satellites, except to watch the building and keep it from running away? +On the street behind the Province House is Fuller's American Book-store, +which we will step into, and now among these books, fresh from the +teeming presses of the States, we feel once more at home. Fuller +preserves his equanimity in spite of the blandishments of royalty, and +once a year, on the Fourth of July, hoists the "stars and stripes," and +bravely takes dinner with the United States Consul, in the midst of +lions and unicorns. Many pleasant hours I passed with Fuller, both in +town and country. Near by, on the next corner, is the print-store of our +old friends the Wet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>mores, and here one can see costly engravings of +Landseer's fine pictures, and indeed whole portfolios of English art. +But of all the pictures there was one, the most touching, the most +suggestive! The presiding genius of the place, the unsceptred Queen of +this little realm was before me—Faed's Evangeline! And this reminded me +that I was in the Acadian land! This reminded me of Longfellow's +beautiful pastoral, a poem that has spread a glory over Nova Scotia, a +romantic interest, which our own land has not yet inspired! I knew that +I was in Acadia; the historic scroll unrolled and stretched its long +perspective to earlier days; it recalled De Monts, and the la Tours; +Vice Admiral Destournelle, who ran upon his own sword, hard by, at +Bedford Basin; and the brave Baron Castine.</p> + +<p>The largest settlement of the Acadians is in the neighborhood of +Halifax. In the early mornings, you sometimes see a few of these people +in the streets, or at the market, selling a dozen or so of fresh eggs, +or a pair or two of woollen socks, almost the only articles of their +simple commerce. But you must needs be early to see them; after eight +o'clock, they will have all vanished. Chezzetcook, or, as it is +pronounced by the 'Alligonians, "Chizzencook," is twenty-two miles from +Halifax, and as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> the Acadian peasant has neither horse nor mule, he or +she must be off betimes to reach home before mid-day nuncheon. A score +of miles on foot is no trifle, in all weathers, but Gabriel and +Evangeline perform it cheerfully; and when the knitting-needle and the +poultry shall have replenished their slender stock, off again they will +start on their midnight pilgrimage, that they may reach the great city +of Halifax before day-break.</p> + +<p>We must see Chezzetcook anon, gentle reader.</p> + +<p>Let us visit the market-place. Here is Masaniello, with his fish in +great profusion. Codfish, three-pence or four-pence each; lobsters, a +penny; and salmon of immense size at six-pence a pound (currency), equal +to a dime of our money. If you prefer trout, you must buy them of these +Micmac squaws in traditional blankets, a shilling a bunch; and you may +also buy baskets of rainbow tints from these copper ladies for a mere +trifle; and as every race has a separate vocation here, only of the +negroes can you purchase berries. "This is a busy town," one would say, +drawing his conclusion from the market-place; for the shifting crowd, in +all costumes and in all colors, Indians, negroes, soldiers, sailors, +civilians, and Chizzincookers, make up a pageant of no little theatrical +effect and bustle. Again: if you are still strong in limb, and ready<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +for a longer walk, which I, leaning upon my staff, am not, we will visit +the encampment at Point Pleasant. The Seventy-sixth Regiment has pitched +its tents here among the evergreens. Yonder you see the soldiers, +looking like masses of red fruit amidst the spicy verdure of the +spruces. Row upon row of tents, and file upon file of men standing at +ease, each one before his knapsack, his little leather household, with +its shoes, socks, shirts, brushes, razors, and other furniture open for +inspection. And there is Sir John Gaspard le Marchant, with a brilliant +staff, engaged in the pleasant duty of picking a personal quarrel with +each medal-decorated hero, and marking down every hole in his socks, and +every gap in his comb, for the honor of the service. And this Point +Pleasant is a lovely place, too, with a broad look-out in front, for +yonder lies the blue harbor and the ocean deeps. Just back of the tents +is the cookery of the camp, huge mounds of loose stones, with grooves at +the top, very like the architecture of a cranberry-pie; and if the +simile be an homely one, it is the best that comes to mind to convey an +idea of those regimental stoves, with their seams and channels of fire, +over which potatoes bubble, and roast and boiled scud forth a savory +odor. And here and there, wistfully regarding this active scene, amid +the green shrubbery,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> stands a sentinel before his sentry-box, built of +spruce boughs, wrought into a mimic military temple, and fanciful +enough, too, for a garden of roses. And look you now! If here be not Die +Vernon, with "habit, hat, and feather," cantering gayly down the road +between the tents, and behind her a stately groom in gold-lace band, +top-boots, and buck-skins. A word in your ear—that pleasant +half-English face is the face of the Governor's daughter.</p> + +<p>The road to Point Pleasant is a favorite promenade in the long Acadian +twilights. Mid-way between the city and the Point lies "Kissing Bridge," +which the Halifax maidens sometimes pass over. Who gathers toll nobody +knows, but I thought there was a mischievous glance in the blue eyes of +those passing damsels that said plainly they could tell, "an' they +would." I love to look upon those happy, healthy English faces; those +ruddy cheeks, flushed with exercise, and those well-developed forms, not +less attractive because of the sober-colored dresses and brown flat +hats, in which, o' summer evenings, they glide towards the mysterious +precincts of "The Bridge." What a tale those old arches could tell? +<i>¿Quien sabe?</i> Who knows?</p> + +<p>But next to "Kissing Bridge," the prominent ob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>ject of interest, now, to +Halifax ladies, is the great steamer that lies at the Admiralty, the +Oriental screw-steamer Himalaya—the transport ship of two regiments of +the heroes of Balaklava, and Alma, and Inkerman, and Sebastopol. A vast +specimen of naval architecture; an unusual sight in these waters; a +marine vehicle to carry twenty-five hundred men! Think of this moving +town; this portable village of royal belligerents covered with glory and +medals, breasting the billows! Is there not something glorious in such a +spectacle? And yet I was told by a brave officer, who wore the +decorations of the four great battles on his breast, that of his +regiment, the Sixty-third, but thirty men were now living, and of the +thirty, seventeen only were able to attend drill. That regiment numbered +a thousand at Alma!</p> + +<p>No gun broke the silence of the Sabbath morning, as the giant ship moved +from the Admiralty, on the day following our visit to Point Pleasant, +and silently furrowed her path oceanward on her return to Gibraltar. A +long line of thick bituminous smoke, above the low house-tops, was the +only hint of her departure, to the citizens. It was a grand sight to see +her vast bulk moving among the islands in the harbor, almost as large as +they.</p> + +<p>And now, being Sunday, after looking in at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> Cathedral, which does +not represent the usual pomp of the Romish Church, we will visit the +Garrison Chapel. A bugle-call from barracks, or Citadel Hill, salutes us +as we stroll towards the chapel; otherwise, Halifax is quiet, as becomes +the day. Presently we see the long scarlet lines approaching, and +presently the men, with orderly step, file from the street through the +porch into the gallery and pews. Then the officers of field and line, of +ordnance and commissary departments, take their allotted seats below. +Then the chimes cease, and the service begins. Most devoutly we prayed +for the Queen, and omitted the President of the United States.</p> + +<p>As the Crimeans ebbed from the church, and, floating off in the +distance, wound slowly up Citadel Hill against the quiet clear summer +sky, I could not but think of these lines from Thomas Miller's "Summer +Morning:"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"A troop of soldiers pass with stately pace,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Their early music wakes the village street:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through yon turned blinds peeps many a lovely face,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Smiling perchance unconsciously how sweet!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One does the carpet press with blue-veined feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not thinking how her fair neck she exposes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But with white foot timing the drum's deep beat;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And when again she on her pillow dozes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dreams how she'll dance that tune 'mong summer's sweetest roses</span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">"So let her dream, even as beauty should!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Let the while plumes athwart her slumbers away!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why should I steep their swaling snows in blood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or bid her think of battle's grim array?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Truth will too soon her blinding star display,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And like a fearful comet meet her eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yet how peaceful they pass on their way!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">How grand the sight as up the hill they rise!<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>I will not think of cities reddening in the skies.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was my fate to see next day a great celebration. It was the +celebration of peace between England and Russia. Peace having been +proclaimed, all Halifax was in arms! Loyalty threw out her bunting to +the breeze, and fired her crackers. The civic authorities presented an +address to the royal representative of Her Majesty, requesting His +Excellency to transmit the same to the foot of the throne. Militia-men +shot off municipal cannon; bells echoed from the belfries; the shipping +fluttered with signals; and Citadel Hill telegraph, in a multitude of +flags, announced that ships, brigs, schooners, and steamers, in vast +quantities, "were below." Nor was the peace alone the great feature of +the holiday. The eighth of June, the natal day of Halifax, was to be +celebrated also. For Halifax was founded, so says the Chronicle, on the +eighth of June, 1749, by the Hon. Edward Cornwallis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> (not our +Cornwallis), and the 'Alligonians in consequence made a specialty of +that fact once a year. And to add to the attraction, the Board of Works +had decided to lay the corner-stone of a Lunatic Asylum in the +afternoon; so there was no end to the festivities. And, to crown all, an +immense fog settled upon the city.</p> + +<p>Leaning upon my friend Robert's arm and my staff, I went forth to see +the grand review. When we arrived upon the ground, in the rear of +Citadel Hill, we saw the outline of something glimmering through the +fog, which Robert said were shrubs, and which I said were soldiers. A +few minutes' walking proved my position to be correct; we found +ourselves in the centre of a three-sided square of three regiments, +within which the civic authorities were loyally boring Sir John Gaspard +le Merchant and staff, to the verge of insanity, with the Address which +was to be laid at the foot of the throne. Notwithstanding the despairing +air with which His Excellency essayed to reply to this formidable paper, +I could not help enjoying the scene; and I also noted, when the reply +was over, and the few ragamuffins near His Excellency cheered bravely, +and the band struck up the national anthem, how gravely and discreetly +the rest of the 'Alligonians, in the circumambient fog, echoed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +sentiment by a silence, that, under other circumstances, would have been +disheartening. What a quiet people it is! As I said before, to make the +festivities complete, in the afternoon there was a procession to lay the +corner-stone of a Lunatic Asylum. But oh! how the jolly old rain poured +down upon the luckless pilgrimage! There were the "Virgins" of Masonic +Lodge No.—, the Army Masons, in scarlet; the African Masons, in ivory +and black; the Scotch-piper Mason, with his legs in enormous plaid +trowsers, defiant of Shakspeare's theory about the sensitiveness of some +men, when the bag-pipe sings i' the nose; the Clerical Mason in shovel +hat; the municipal artillery; the Sons of Temperance, and the band. Away +they marched, with drum and banner, key and compasses, <span class="smcap">Bible</span> and sword, +to Dartmouth, in great feather, for the eyes of Halifax were upon them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Fog clears Up—The One Idea not comprehended by the American Mind—A +June Morning in the Province—The Beginning of the Evangeliad—Intuitive +Perception of Genius—The Forest Primeval—Acadian Peasants—A Negro +Settlement—Deer's Castle—The Road to Chezzetcook—Acadian Scenery—A +Glance at the Early History of Acadia—First Encroachments of the +English—The Harbor and Village of Chezzetcook—Etc., etc.</p> + +<p>The celebration being over, the fog cleared up. Loyalty furled her +flags; the civic authorities were silent; the signal-telegraph was put +upon short allowance. But the 'Alligonian papers next day were loaded to +the muzzle with typographical missiles. From them we learned that there +had been a great amount of enthusiasm displayed at the celebration, and +"everything had passed off happily in spite of the weather." "Old +Chebucto" was right side up, and then she quietly sparkled out again.</p> + +<p>There is one solitary idea, and only one, not comprehensible by the +American mind. I say it feebly, but I say it fearlessly, there is an +idea which does not present anything to the American mind but a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> blank. +Every metaphysical dog has worried the life out of every abstraction but +this. I strike my stick down, cross my hands, and rest my chin upon +them, in support of my position. Let anybody attempt to controvert it! +"I say, that in the American mind, there is no such thing as the +conception even, of an idea of tranquillity!" I once for a little +repose, went to a "quiet New-England village," as it was called, and the +first thing that attracted my attention there was a statement in the +village paper, that no less than twenty persons in that quiet place had +obtained patent-rights for inventions and improvements during the past +year. They had been at everything, from an apple-parer to a +steam-engine. In the next column was an article "on capital punishment," +and the leader was thoroughly fired up with a bran-new project for a +railroad to the Pacific. That day I dined with a member of Congress, a +peripatetic lecturer, and the principal citizens of the township, and +took the return cars at night amid the glare of a torch-light +procession. Repose, forsooth? Why, the great busy city seemed to sing +lullaby, after the shock of that quiet New-England village.</p> + +<p>But in this quaint, mouldy old town, one <i>can</i> get an idea of the calm +and the tranquil—especially after a celebration. It has been said: +"Halifax is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> the only place that is finished." One can readily believe +it. The population has been twenty-five thousand for the last +twenty-five years, and a new house is beyond the memory of the oldest +inhabitant.</p> + +<p>The fog cleared up. And one of those inexpressibly balmy days followed. +June in Halifax represents our early May. The trees are all in bud; the +peas in the garden-beds are just marking the lines of drills with faint +stripes of green. Here and there a solitary bird whets his bill on the +bare bark of a forked bough. The chilly air has departed, and in its +place is a sense of freshness, of dewiness, of fragrance and delight. A +sense of these only, an instinctive feeling, that anticipates the odor +of the rose before the rose is blown. On such a morning we went forth to +visit Chezzetcook, and here, gentle reader, beginneth the Evangeliad.</p> + +<p>The intuitive perception of genius is its most striking element. I was +told by a traveller and an artist, who had been for nearly twenty years +on the northwest coast, that he had read Irving's "Astoria" as a mere +romance, in early life, but when he visited the place itself, he found +that <i>he was reading the book over again</i>; that Irving's descriptions +were so minute and perfect, that he was at home in Astoria, and +familiar, not only with the country, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> with individuals residing +there; "for," said he, "although many of the old explorers, trappers, +and adventurers described in the book were dead and gone, yet I found +the descendants of those pioneers had the peculiar characteristics of +their fathers; and the daughter of Concomly, whom I met, was as +interesting a historical personage at home as Queen Elizabeth would have +been in Westminster Abbey. At Vancouver's Island," said the traveller, +"I found an old dingy copy of the book itself, embroidered and seamed +with interlineations and marginal notes of hundreds of pens, in every +style of chirography, yet all attesting the faithfulness of the +narrative. I would have given anything for that copy, but I do not +believe I could have purchased it with the price of the whole island."</p> + +<p>What but that wonderful clement of genius, <i>intuitive perception</i>, could +have produced such a book? Irving was never on the Columbia River, never +saw the northwest coast. "The materials were furnished him from the +log-books and journals of the explorers themselves," says Dr. Dryasdust. +True, my learned friend, but suppose I furnish you with pallet and +colors, with canvas and brushes, the materials of art, will you paint me +as I sit here, and make a living, breathing picture, that will survive +my ashes for centuries? "I have not the genius of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> the artist," replies +Dr. Dryasdust. Then, my dear Doctor, we will put the materials aside for +the present, and venture a little farther with our theory of "intuitive +perception."</p> + +<p>Longfellow never saw the Acadian Land, and yet thus his pastoral begins:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This is the opening line of the poem: this is the striking feature of +Nova Scotia scenery. The shores welcome us with waving masses of +foliage, but not the foliage of familiar woods. As we travel on this +hilly road to the Acadian settlement, we look up and say, "This is the +forest primeval," but it is the forest of the poem, not that of our +childhood. There is not, in all this vast greenwood, an oak, an elm, a +chestnut, a beech, a cedar or maple. For miles and miles, we see nothing +against the clear blue sky but the spiry tops of evergreens; or perhaps, +a gigantic skeleton, "a rampike," pine or hemlock, scathed and spectral, +stretches its gaunt outline above its fellows. Spruces and firs, such as +adorn our gardens, cluster in never-ending profusion; and aromatic and +unwonted odor pervades the air—the spicy breath of resinous balsams. +Sometimes the sense is touched with a new fragrance, and presently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> we +see a buckthorn, white with a thousand blossoms. These, however, only +meet us at times. The distinct and characteristic feature of the forest +is conveyed in that one line of the poet.</p> + +<p>And yet another feature of the forest primeval presents itself, not less +striking and unfamiliar. From the dead branches of those skeleton pines +and hemlocks, these <i>rampikes</i>, hang masses of white moss, snow-white, +amid the dark verdure. An actor might wear such a beard in the play of +King Lear. Acadian children wore such to imitate "<i>grandpère</i>," +centuries ago; Cowley's trees are "Patricians," these are Patriarchs.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">——"the murmuring pines and the hemlocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Bearded with moss</i>, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Stand like harpers hoar with beards that rest on their bosoms</i>."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>We are re-reading Evangeline line by line. And here, at this turn of the +road, we encounter two Acadian peasants. The man wears an old tarpaulin +hat, home-spun worsted shirt, and tarry canvas trowsers; innovation has +certainly changed him, in costume at least, from the Acadian of our +fancy; but the pretty brown-skinned girl beside him, with lustrous eyes, +and soft black hair under her hood, with kirtle of antique form, and +petticoat of holiday homespun, is true to tradition. There is nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +modern in the face or drapery of that figure. She might have stepped out +of Normandy a century ago,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear-rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as an heir-loom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Handed down from mother to child, through long generations."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Alas! the ear-rings are worn out with age! but save them, the picture is +very true to the life. As we salute the pair, we learn they have been +walking on their way since dawn from distant Chezzetcook: the man speaks +English with a strong French accent; the maiden only the language of her +people on the banks of the Seine.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the way-side:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of her tresses."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Who can help repeating the familiar words of the idyl amid such scenery, +and in such a presence?</p> + +<p>"We are now approaching a Negro settlement," said my <i>compagnon de +voyage</i> after we had passed the Acadians; "and we will take a fresh +horse at Deer's Castle; this is rough travelling." In a few minutes we +saw a log house perched on a bare bone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> of granite that stood out on a +ragged hill-side, and presently another cabin of the same kind came in +view. Then other scare-crow edifices wheeled in sight as we drove along; +all forlorn, all patched with mud, all perched on barren knolls, or +gigantic bars of granite, high up, like ragged redoubts of poverty, +armed at every window with a formidable artillery of old hats, rolls of +rags, quilts, carpets, and indescribable bundles, or barricaded with +boards to keep out the air and sunshine.</p> + +<p>"You do not mean to say those wretched hovels are occupied by living +beings?" said I to my companion.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," he replied, with a quiet smile, "these are your people, your +<i>fugitives</i>."</p> + +<p>"But, surely," said I, "they do not live in those airy nests during your +intensely cold winters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied my companion, "and they have a pretty hard time of it. +Between you and I," he continued, "they are a miserable set of devils; +they won't work, and they shiver it out here as well as they can. During +the most of the year they are in a state of abject want, and then they +are very humble. But in the strawberry season they make a little money, +and while it lasts are fat and saucy enough. We can't do anything with +them, they won't work. There they are in their cabins, just as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> you see +them, a poor, woe-begone set of vagabonds; a burden upon the community; +of no use to themselves, nor to anybody else."</p> + +<p>"Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy and pursue with +eagerness the phantoms of hope, who expect that age will perform the +promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will be +supplied by the morrow, attend to the history of Rasselas, here in his +happy valley."</p> + +<p>"Now then," said my companion, as this trite quotation was passing +through my mind. The wagon had stopped in front of a little, +weather-beaten house that kept watch and ward over an acre of +greensward, broken ever and anon with a projecting bone of granite, and +not only fenced with stone, but dotted also with various mounds of +pebbles, some as large as a paving-stone, and some much larger. This was +"Deer's Castle." In front of the castle was a swing-sign with an +inscription:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">William Deer</span>, who lives here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keeps the best of wine and beer,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brandy, and cider, and other good cheer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fish, and ducks, and moose, and deer.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caught or shot in the woods just here,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With cutlets, or steaks, as will appear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you will stop you need not fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But you will be well treated by <span class="smcap">William Deer</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Deer</span>, his dearest, deary dear!"<br /></span> +</div><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></div> + +<p>I quote from memory. The precise words have escaped me, but the above is +the substance of the sense, and the metre is accurate.</p> + +<p>It was a little, weather-beaten shanty of boards, that clung like flakes +to the frame-work. A show-box of a room, papered with select wood-cuts +from <i>Punch</i> and the <i>Illustrated London News</i>, was the grand +banquet-hall of the castle. And indeed it was a castle compared with the +wretched redoubts of poverty around it. Here we changed horses, or +rather we exchanged our horse, for a diminutive, bantam pony, that, +under the supervision of "Bill," was put inside the shafts and buckled +up to the very roots of the harness. This Bill, the son and heir of the +Castellen, was a good-natured yellow boy, about fifteen years of age, +with such a development of under-lip and such a want of development +elsewhere, that his head looked like a scoop. There was an infinite fund +of humor in Billy, an uncontrollable sense of the comic, that would +break out in spite of his grave endeavors to put himself under guard. It +exhibited itself in his motions and gestures, in the flourish of his +hands as he buckled up the pony, in the looseness of his gait, the swing +of his head, and the roll of his eyes. His very language was pregnant +with mirth; thus:</p> + +<p>"Bill!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Cheh, cheh, sir? cheh."</p> + +<p>"Is your father at home?"</p> + +<p>"Cheh, cheh, father? cheh, cheh."</p> + +<p>"Yes, your father?"</p> + +<p>"Cheh, cheh, at home, sah? cheh."</p> + +<p>"Yes, is your father at home?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so, cheh, cheh."</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with you, Bill? what are you laughing about?"</p> + +<p>"Cheh, cheh, I don't know, sah, cheh, cheh."</p> + +<p>"Well, take out the horse, and put in the pony; we want to go to +Chizzencook."</p> + +<p>"Cheh, Cheh'z'ncook? Yes, sah," and so with that facetious gait and +droll twist of the elbow, Bill swings himself against the horse and +unbuckles him in a perpetual jingle of merriment.</p> + +<p>"And this," said I to my companion, as we looked from the door-step of +the shanty upon the spiry tops of evergreens in the valley below us, and +at the wretched log-huts that were roosting up on the bare rocks around +us, "this is the negro settlement?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Are all the negro settlements in Nova Scotia as miserable, as this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered; "you can tell a negro settlement at once by its +appearance."</p> + +<p>"Then," I thought to myself, "I would, for poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> Cuffee's sake, that +much-vaunted British sympathy and British philanthropy had something +better to show to an admiring world than the prospect around Deer's +Castle."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the very generous banquet spread before the eyes of the +traveller, on the sign-board, we were compelled to dismiss the pleasant +fiction of the poet upon the announcement of Mrs. Deer, that "Nathin was +in de house 'cept bacon," and she "reckoned" she "might have an egg or +two by de time we got back from Chizzincook."</p> + +<p>"But you have plenty of trout here in these streams?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, plenty, sah."</p> + +<p>"Then let Bill catch some trout for us."</p> + +<p>And so the pony being strapped up and buckled to the wagon, we left the +negro settlement for the French settlement. They are all in +"settlements," here, the people of this Province. Centuries are mutable, +but prejudices never alter in the Colonies.</p> + +<p>But we are again in the Acadian forest—a truce to moralizing—let us +enjoy the scenery. The road we are on is but a few miles from the +sea-shore, but the ocean is hidden from view by the thick woods. As we +ride along, however, we skirt the edges of coves and inlets that +frequently break in upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> landscape. There is a chain of fresh-water +lakes also along this road; sometimes we cross a bridge over a rushing +torrent; sometimes a calm expanse of water, doubling the evergreens at +its margin, comes in view; anon a gleam of sapphire strikes through the +verdure, and an ocean-bay with its shingly beach curves in and out +between the piny slopes. At last we reach the crest of a hill, and at +the foot of the road is another bridge, a house, a wharf, and two or +three coasters at anchor in a diminutive harbor. This is "Three Fathom +Harbor." We are within a mile of Chezzetcook.</p> + +<p>Now if it were not for Pony we should press on to the settlement, but we +must give Pony a respite. Pony is an enthusiastic little fellow, but his +lungs are too much for him, they have blown him out like a bagpipe. A +mile farther and then eleven miles back to Deer's Castle, is a great +undertaking for so small an animal. In the meanwhile, we will ourselves +rest and take some "home-brewed" with the landlord, who is +harbor-master, inn-keeper, store-keeper, fisherman, shipper, skipper, +mayor, and corporation of Three Fathom Harbor, beside being father of +the town, for all the children in it are his own. A draught of foaming +ale, a whiff or two from a clay pipe, a look out of the window to be +assured that Pony had subsided, and we take leave of the corpo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>rate +authority of Three Fathom Harbor, and are once more on the road.</p> + +<p>One can scarcely draw near to a settlement of these poor refugees +without a feeling of pity for the sufferings they have endured; and this +spark of pity quickly warms and kindles into indignation when we think +of the story of hapless Acadia—the grievous wrong done those +simple-minded, harmless, honest people, by the rapacious, free-booting +adventurers of merry England, and those precious filibusters, our +Pilgrim Fathers.</p> + +<p>The early explorations of the French in the young hemisphere which +Columbus had revealed to the older half of the world, have been almost +entirely obscured by the greater events which followed. Nearly a century +after the first colonies were established in New France, New England was +discovered. I shall not dwell upon the importance of this event, as it +has been so often alluded to by historians and others; and, indeed, I +believe it is generally acknowledged now, that the finding of the +continent itself would have been a failure had it not been for the +discovery of Massachusetts. As this, however, happened long after the +establishment of Acadia, and as the Pilgrim Fathers did not interfere +with their French neighbors for a surprising length of time, it will be +as well not to expa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>tiate upon it at present. In the course of a couple +of centuries or so, I shall have occasion to allude to it, in connection +with the story of the neutral French.</p> + +<p>In the year 1504, says the Chronicle, some fishermen from Brittany +discovered the island that now forms the eastern division of Nova +Scotia, and named it "Cape Breton." Two years after, Dennys of Harfleur, +made a rude chart of the vast sheet of water that stretches from Cape +Breton and Newfoundland to the mainland. In 1534, Cartier, sailing under +the orders of the French Admiral, Chabot, visited the coast of +Newfoundland, crossed the gulf Dennys had seen and described +twenty-eight years before, and took possession of the country around it, +in the name of the king, his master. As Cartier was recrossing the Gulf, +on his return voyage, he named the waters he was sailing upon "St. +Lawrence," in honor of that saint whose day chanced to turn up on the +calendar at that very happy time. According to some accounts, Baron de +Lery established a settlement here as early as 1518. Some authorities +state that a French colony was planted on the St. Lawrence as early as +1524, and soon after others were formed in Canada and Nova Scotia. In +1535, Cartier again crossed the waters of the Gulf, and following the +course of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> river, penetrated into the interior until he reached an +island upon which was a hill; this he named "<i>Mont Real</i>." Various +adventurers followed these first discoverers and explorers, and the +coast was from time to time visited by French ships, in pursuit of the +fisheries.</p> + +<p>Among these expeditions, one of the most eminent was that of Champlain, +who, in the year 1609, penetrated as far south as the head waters of the +Hudson River; visited Lake George and the cascades of Ticonderoga; and +gave his own name to the lake which lies between the proud shores of New +York and New England. Thence le Sr. Champlain, "<i>Capitaine pour le +Roy</i>," travelled westward, as far as the country of the Hurons, giving +to the discovered territory the title of Nouvelle France; and to the +lakes Ontario, Erie, and Huron, the names of St. Louis, Mer Douce, and +Grand Lac; which any person can see by referring to the original chart +in the State library of New York. But before these discoveries of +Champlain, an important step had been taken by the parent government. In +the year 1603, an expedition, under the patronage of Henry IV., sailed +for the New World. The leader of this was a Protestant gentleman, by +name De Monts. As the people under his command were both Protestants and +Catholics, De Monts had per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>mission given in his charter to establish, +as one of the fundamental laws of the Colony, the free exercise of +"religious worship," upon condition of settling in the country, and +teaching the Roman Catholic faith to the savages. Heretofore, all the +countries discovered by the French had been called New France, but in De +Monts' Patent, that portion of the territory lying east of the Penobscot +and embracing the present provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and +part of Maine was named "Acadia."</p> + +<p>The little colony under De Monts flourished in spite of the rigors of +the climate, and its commander, with a few men, explored the coast on +the St. Lawrence and the bay of Fundy, as well as the rivers of Maine, +the Penobscot, the Kennebec, the Saco and Casco Bay, and even coasted as +far south as the long, hook-shaped cape that is now known in all parts +of the world as the famous Cape Cod. In a few years, the settlement +began to assume a smiling aspect; houses were erected, and lands were +tilled; the settlers planted seeds and gathered the increase thereof; +gardens sprang out of the wilderness, peace and order reigned +everywhere, and the savage tribes around viewed the kind, light-hearted +colonists with admiration and fraternal good-will. It is pleasant to +read this part of the chronicle—of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> their social meetings in the winter +at the banqueting hall; of the order of "<i>Le Bon Temps</i>," established by +Champlain; of the great pomp and insignia of office (a collar, a napkin, +and staff) of the grand chamberlain, whose government only lasted for a +day, when he was supplanted by another; of their dinners in the sunshine +amid the corn-fields; of their boats, banners, and music on the water; +of their gentleness, simplicity, and honest, hearty enjoyments. These +halcyon days soon came to an end. The infamous Captain Argall, hearing +that a number of white people had settled in this hyperborean region, +set sail from Jamestown for the colony, in a ship of fourteen guns, in +the midst of a profound peace, to burn, pillage, and slaughter the +intruders upon the territory of Virginia! Finding the people unprepared +for defence, his enterprise was successful. Argall took possession of +the lands, in the name of the King of England, laid waste some of the +settlements, burned the forts, and, under circumstances of peculiar +perfidy, induced a number of the poor Acadians to go with him to +Jamestown. Here they were treated as pirates, thrown into prison, and +sentenced to be executed. Argall, who it seems had some touch of manhood +in his nature, upon this confessed to the Governor, Sir Thomas Dale, +that these people had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> a patent from the King of France, which he had +stolen from them and concealed, and that they were not pirates, but +simply colonists. Upon this, Sir Thomas Dale was induced to fit out an +expedition to dislodge the rest of them from Acadia. Three ships were +got ready, the brave Captain Argall was appointed Commander-in-chief, +and the first colony was terminated by fire and sword before the end of +the year. This was in 1613, ten years after the first planting of +Acadia.</p> + +<p>"Some of the settlers," says the Chronicle, "finding resistance to be +unavailing, fled to the woods." What became of them history does not +inform us, but with a graceful appearance of candor, relates that the +transaction itself "was not approved of by the court of England, nor +resented by that of France." Five years afterward we find Captain Argall +appointed Deputy-Governor of Virginia.</p> + +<p>This outrage was the initial letter only of a series that for nearly a +century and a half after, made the successive colonists of Acadia the +prey of their rapacious neighbors. We shall take up the story from time +to time, gentle reader, as we voyage around and through the province. +Meanwhile let us open our eyes again upon the present, for just below us +lies the village and harbor of Chezzetcook.</p> + +<p>A conspiracy of earth and air and ocean had cer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>tainly broken out that +morning, for the ominous lines of Fog and Mist were hovering afar off +upon the boundaries of the horizon. Under the crystalline azure of a +summer sky, the water of the harbor had an intensity of color rarely +seen, except in the pictures of the most ultra-marine painters. Here and +there a green island or a fishing-boat rested upon the surface of the +tranquil blue. For miles and miles the eye followed indented grassy +slopes, that rolled away on either side of the harbor, and the most +delicate pencil could scarcely portray the exquisite line of creamy sand +that skirted their edges and melted off in the clear margin of the +water. Occasional little cottages nestle among these green banks, not +the Acadian houses of the poem, "with thatched roofs, and dormer windows +projecting," but comfortable, homely-looking buildings of modern shapes, +shingled and un-weather-cocked. No cattle visible, no ploughs nor +horses. Some of the men are at work in the open air; all in tarpaulin +hats, all in tarry canvas trowsers. These are boat-builders and coopers. +Simple, honest, and good-tempered enough; you see how courteously they +salute us as we ride by them. In front of every house there is a knot of +curious little faces; Young Acadia is out this bright day, and although +Young Acadia has not a clean face on, yet its hair is of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> darkest +and softest, and its eyes are lustrous and most delicately fringed. +Yonder is one of the veterans of the place, so we will tie Pony to the +fence, and rest here.</p> + +<p>"Fine day you have here," said my companion.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! oh yes!" (with great deference and politeness).</p> + +<p>"Can you give us anything in the way of refreshment? a glass of ale, or +a glass of milk?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" (with the unmistakable shrug of the shoulders); "we no have +milk, no have ale, no have brandy, no have noting here: ah! we very poor +peep' here." (Poor people here.)</p> + +<p>"Can we sit down and rest in one of your houses?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! oh yes!" (with great politeness and alacrity); "walk in, walk +in; we very poor peep', no milk, no brandy: walk in."</p> + +<p>The little house is divided by a partition. The larger half is the hall, +the parlor, kitchen, and nursery in one. A huge fire-place, an antique +spinning-wheel, a bench, and two settles, or high-backed seats, a table, +a cradle and a baby very wide awake, complete the inventory. In the +apartment adjoining is a bin that represents, no doubt, a French +bedstead of the early ages. Everything is suggestive of boat-builders, +of Robinson Crusoe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> work, of undisciplined hands, that have had to do +with ineffectual tools. As you look at the walls, you see the house is +built of timbers, squared and notched together, and caulked with moss or +oakum.</p> + +<p>"Very poor peep' here," says the old man, with every finger on his hands +stretched out to deprecate the fact. By the fire-side sits an old woman, +in a face all cracked and seamed with wrinkles, like a picture by one of +the old masters. "Yes," she echoes, "very poor peep' here, and very +cold, too, sometime." By this time the door-way is entirely packed with +little, black, shining heads, and curious faces, all shy, timid, and yet +not the less good-natured. Just back of the cradle are two of the +Acadian women, "knitters i' the sun," with features that might serve for +Palmer's sculptures; and eyes so lustrous, and teeth so white, and +cheeks so rich with brown and blush, that if one were a painter and not +an invalid, he might pray for canvas and pallet as the very things most +wanted in the critical moment of his life. Faed's picture does not +convey the Acadian face. The mouth and chin are more delicate in the +real than in the ideal Evangeline. If you look again, after the first +surprise is over, you will see that these are the traditional pictures, +such as we might have fancied they should be, after reading the idyl. +From the forehead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> of each you see at a glance how the dark mass of hair +has been combed forward and over the face, that the little triangular +Norman cap might be tied across the crown of the head. Then the hair is +thrown back again over this, so as to form a large bow in front, then +re-tied at the crown with colored ribbons. Then you see it has been +plaited in a shining mesh, brought forward again, and braided with +ribbons, so that it forms, as it were, a pretty coronet, well-placed +above those brilliant eyes and harmonious features. This, with the +antique kirtle and picturesque petticoat, is an Acadian portrait. Such +is it now, and such it was, no doubt, when De Monts sailed from Havre de +Grace, two centuries and a half ago. In visiting this kind and simple +people, one can scarcely forget the little chapel. The young French +priest was in his garden, behind the little tenement, set apart for him +by the piety of his flock, and readily admitted us. A small place indeed +was it, but clean and orderly, the altar decorated with toy images, that +were not too large for a Christmas table. Yet I have been in the +grandest tabernacles of episcopacy with lesser feelings of respect than +those which were awakened in that tiny Acadian chapel. Peace be with it, +and with its gentle flock.</p> + +<p>"Pony is getting impatient," said my compa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>nion, as we reverently +stepped from the door-way, "and it is a long ride to Halifax." So, with +courteous salutation on both sides, we take leave of the good father, +and once more are on the road to Deer's Castle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">A Romp at Three Fathom Harbor—The Moral Condition of the Acadians—The +Wild Flowers of Nova Scotia—Mrs. Deer's Wit—No Fish—Picton—The +Balaklava Schooner—And a Voyage to Louisburgh.</p> + +<p>Pony is very enterprising. We are soon at the top of the first long +hill, and look again, for the last time, upon the Acadian village. How +cosily and quietly it is nestled down amid those graceful green slopes! +What a bit of poetry it is in itself! Jog on, Pony!</p> + +<p>The corporate authority of Three Fathom Harbor has been improving his +time during our absence. As we drive up we find him in high romp with a +brace of buxom, red-cheeked, Nova Scotia girls, who have just alighted +from a wagon. The landlady of Three Fathom Harbor, in her matronly cap, +is smiling over the little garden gate at her lord, who is pursuing his +Daphnes, and catching, and kissing, and hugging, first one and then the +other, to his heart's content. Notwithstanding their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> screams, and +slaps, and robust struggles, it is very plain to be seen that the +skipper's attentions are not very unwelcome. Leaving his fair friends, +he catches Pony by the bridle and stops us with a hospitable—"Come +in—you must come in; just a glass of ale, you'll want it;" and sure +enough, we found when we came to taste the ale, that we did want it, and +many thanks to him, the kind-hearted landlord of the Three Fathoms.</p> + +<p>"It is surprising," said I to my companion, as we rolled again over the +road, "that these people, these Acadians, should still preserve their +language and customs, so near to your principal city, and yet with no +more affiliation than if they were on an island in the South Seas!"</p> + +<p>"The reason of that," he replied, "is because they stick to their own +settlement; never see anything of the world except Halifax early in the +morning; never marry out of their own set; never read—I do not believe +one of them can read or write—and are in fact <i>so slow</i>, so destitute +of enterprise, so much behind the age"——</p> + +<p>I could not avoid smiling. My companion observed it. "What are you +thinking about?" said he.</p> + +<p>The truth is, I was thinking of Halifax, which was anything but a <i>fast</i> +place; but I simply observed:</p> + +<p>"Your settlements here are somewhat novel to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> stranger. That a mere +handful of men should be so near your city, and yet so isolated: that +this village of a few hundred only, should retain its customs and +language, intact, for generation after generation, within walking +distance of Halifax, seems to me unaccountable. But let me ask you," I +continued, "what is the moral condition of the Acadians?"</p> + +<p>"As for that," said he, "I believe it stands pretty fair. I do not think +an Acadian would cheat, lie, or steal; I know that the women are +virtuous, and if I had a thousand pounds in my pocket I could sleep with +confidence in any of their houses, although all the doors were unlocked +and everybody in the village knew it."</p> + +<p>"That," said I, "reminds one of the poem:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of their owners;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Poor exiles! You will never see the Gasperau and the shore of the Basin +of Minas, but if this very feeble life I have holds out, I hope to visit +Grandpré and the broad meadows that gave a name to the village.</p> + +<p>One thing Longfellow has certainly omitted in "Evangeline"—the wild +flowers of Acadia. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> roadside is all fringed and tasselled with +white, pink, and purple. The wild strawberries are in blossom, whitening +the turf all the way from Halifax to Chezzetcook. You see their starry +settlements thick in every bit of turf. These are the silver mines of +poor Cuffee; he has the monopoly of the berry trade. It is his only +revenue. Then in the swampy grounds there are long green needles in +solitary groups, surmounted with snowy tufts; and here and there, +clusters of light purple blossoms, called laurel flowers, but not like +our laurels, spring up from the bases of grey rocks and boulders; +sometimes a rich array of blood-red berries gleams out of a mass of +greenery; then again great floral white radii, tipped with snowy petals, +rise up profuse and lofty; down by the ditches hundreds of pitcher +plants lift their veined and mottled vases, brimming with water, to the +wood-birds who drink and perch upon their thick rims; May-flowers of +delightful fragrance hide beneath those shining, tropical-looking +leaves, and meadow-sweet, not less fragrant, but less beautiful, pours +its tender aroma into the fresh air; here again we see the buckthorn in +blossom; there, scattered on the turf, the scarlet partridge berry; then +wild-cherry trees, mere shrubs only, in full bud; and around all and +above all, the evergreens, the murmuring pines, and the hemlocks;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> the +rampikes—the grey-beards of the primeval forest; the spicy breath of +resinous balsams; the spiry tops, and the serene heaven. Is this fairy +land? No, it is only poor, old, barren Nova Scotia, and yet I think +Felix, Prince of Salerno, if he were here, might say, and say truly too, +"In all my life I never beheld a more enchanting place;" but Felix, +Prince of Salerno, must remember this is the month of June, and summer +is not perpetual in the latitude of forty-five.</p> + +<p>We reach at last Deer's Castle. Pony, under the hands of Bill, seems +remarkably cheerful and fresh after his long travel up hill and down. +When he pops out of his harness, with his knock-knees and sturdy, stocky +little frame, he looks very like an animated saw-buck, clothed in +seal-skin; and with a jump, and snort, and flourish of tail, he escorts +Bill to the stable, as if twenty miles over a rough road was a trifle +not worth consideration.</p> + +<p>A savory odor of frying bacon and eggs stole forth from the door as we +sat, in the calm summer air, upon the stone fence. William Deer, Jr., +was wandering about in front of the castle, endeavoring to get control +of his under lip and keep his exuberant mirth within the limits of +decorum; but every instant, to use a military figure, it would flash in +the pan. Up on the bare rocks were the wretched, woe-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>begone, patched, +and ragged log huts of poor Cuffee. The hour and the season were +suggestive of philosophizing, of theories, and questions.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Deer," said I, "is that your husband's portrait on the back of the +sign?" (there was a picture of a stag with antlers on the reverse of the +poetical swing-board, either intended as a pictographic pun upon the +name of "Deer," or as a hint to sportsmen of good game hereabouts).</p> + +<p>"Why," replied Mrs. Deer, an old tidy wench, of fifty, pretty well bent +by rheumatism, and so square in the lower half of her figure, and so +spare in the upper, that she appeared to have been carved out of her own +hips: "why, as to dat, he ain't good-looking to brag on, but I don't +think he looks quite like a beast neither."</p> + +<p>At this unexpected retort, Bill flashed off so many pans at once that he +seemed to be a platoon of militia. My companion also enjoyed it +immensely. Being an invalid, I could not participate in the general +mirth.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Deer," said I, "how long have you lived here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sah! a good many years; I cum here afore I had Bill dar." (Here +William flashed in the pan twice.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where did you reside before you came to Nova Scotia?"</p> + +<p>"Sah?"</p> + +<p>"Where did you live?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sah! I is from Maryland." (William at it again.)</p> + +<p>"Did you run away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sah; I left when I was young. Bill, what you laughing at? <i>I</i> was +young once."</p> + +<p>"Were you married then—when you run away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sah!" (a glance at Bill, who was off again).</p> + +<p>"And left your husband behind in Maryland?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sah; but he didn't stay long dar after I left. He was after me +putty sharp, soon as I travelled;" (here Mrs. Deer and William +interchanged glances, and indulged freely in mirth).</p> + +<p>"And which place do you like the best—this or Maryland?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I never had no such work to do at home as I have to do here, +grubbin' up old stumps and stones; dem isn't women's work. When I was +home, I had only to wait on misses, and work was light and easy." +(William quiet.)</p> + +<p>"But which place do you like the best—Nova Scotia or Maryland?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! de work here is awful, grubbin' up old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> stones and stumps; 'tain't +fit for women." (William much impressed with the cogency of this +repetition.)</p> + +<p>"But which place do you like the best?"</p> + +<p>"And de winter here, oh! it's wonderful tryin." (William utters an +affirmative flash.)</p> + +<p>"But which place do you like the best?"</p> + +<p>"And den dere's de rheumatiz."</p> + +<p>"But which place do you like the best, Mrs. Deer?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Deer, glancing at Bill, "I like Nova Scotia best." +(Whatever visions of Maryland were gleaming in William's mind, seemed to +be entirely quenched by this remark.)</p> + +<p>"But why," said I, "do you prefer Nova Scotia to Maryland? Here you have +to work so much harder, to suffer so much from the cold and the +rheumatism, and get so little for it;" for I could not help looking over +the green patch of stony grass that has been rescued by the labor of a +quarter century.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" replied Mrs. Deer, "de difference is, dat when I work here, I work +for myself, and when I was working at home, I was working for other +people." (At this, William broke forth again in such a series of platoon +flashes, that we all joined in with infinite merriment.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mrs. Deer," said I, recovering my gravity, "I want to ask you one more +question."</p> + +<p>"Well, sah," said the lady Deer, cocking her head on one side, +expressive of being able to answer any number of questions in a +twinkling.</p> + +<p>"You have, no doubt, still many relatives left in Maryland?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes," replied Mrs. Deer, "<i>all</i> of dem are dar."</p> + +<p>"And suppose you had a chance to advise them in regard to this matter, +would you tell them to run away, and take their part with you in Nova +Scotia, or would you advise them to stay where they are?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Deer, at this, looked a long time at William, and William looked +earnestly at his parent. Then she cocked her head on the other side, to +take a new view of the question. Then she gathered up mouth and +eyebrows, in a puzzle, and again broadened out upon Bill in an odd kind +of smile; at last she doubled up one fist, put it against her cheek, +glanced at Bill, and out came the answer: "Well, sah, I'd let 'em take +dere <i>own</i> heads for dat!" I must confess the philosophy of this remark +awakened in me a train of very grave reflections; but my companion burst +into a most obstreperous laugh. As for Mrs. Deer, she shook her old hips +as long as she could stand, and then sat down and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> continued, until she +wiped the tears out of her eyes with the corner of her apron. William +cast himself down upon a strawberry bank, and gave way to the most +flagrant mirth, kicking up his old shoes in the air, and fairly +wallowing in laughter and blossoms. I endeavored to change the subject. +"Bill, did you catch any trout?" It was some time before William could +control himself enough to say, "Not a single one, sah;" and then he +rolled over on his back, put his black paws up to his eyes, and twitched +and jingled to his heart's content. I did not ask Mrs. Deer any more +questions; but there is a moral in the story, enough for a day.</p> + +<p>As we rattled over the road, after our brief dinner at Deer's Castle, I +could not avoid a pervading feeling of gloom and disappointment, in +spite of the balmy air and pretty landscape. The old ragged abodes of +wretchedness seemed to be too clearly defined—to stand out too +intrusively against the bright blue sky. But why should I feel so much +for Cuffee? Has he not enlisted in his behalf every philanthropist in +England? Is he not within ten miles of either the British flag or +Acadia? Does not the Duchess of Sutherland entertain the authoress of +Uncle Tom's Cabin, and the Black Swan? Why should I sorrow for Cuffee, +when he is in the midst of his best friends? Why should I pretend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> to +say that this appears to be the raggedest, the meanest, the worst +condition of humanity, when the papers are constantly lauding British +philanthropy, and holding it up as a great example, which we must "bow +down and worship?" For my own part, although the pleasant fiction of +seeing Cuffee clothed, educated, and Christianized, seemed to be +somewhat obscured in this glimpse of his real condition, yet I hope he +will do well under his new owners; at the very least, I trust his berry +crop will be good, and that a benevolent British blanket or two may +enable him to shiver out the winter safely, if not comfortably. Poor +William Deer, Sen'r, of Deer's Castle, was suffering with rheumatism in +the next apartment, while we were at his eggs and bacon in the banquet +hall; but Deer of Deer's Castle is a prince to his neighbors. I shall +not easily forget the brightening eye, the swift glance of intelligence +in the face of another old negro, an hostler, in Nova Scotia. He was +from Virginia, and adopting the sweet, mellifluous language of his own +home, I asked him whether he liked best to stay where he was, or go back +to "Old Virginny?" "O massa!" said he, with <i>such</i> a look, "you <i>must +know</i> dat I has de warmest side for my own country!"</p> + +<p>We rattled soberly into Dartmouth, and took the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> ferry-boat across the +bay to the city. At the hotel there was no little questioning about +Chezzetcook, for some of the Halifax merchants are at the Waverley. +"<span class="smcap">Goed</span> bless ye, what took ye to Chizzencook?" said one, "I never was +there een in my life; ther's no bizz'ness ther, noathing to be seen: ai +doant think there is a maen in Halifax scairsly, 'as ever seen the +place."</p> + +<p>At the supper-table, while we were discussing, over the cheese and ale, +the Chezzetcook and negro settlements, and exhibiting with no little +vainglory a gorgeous bunch of wild flowers (half of which vanity my +<i>compagnon de voyage</i> is accountable for), there was a young +English-Irish gentleman, well built, well featured, well educated: by +name—I shall call him Picton.</p> + +<p>Picton took much interest in Deer's Castle and Chezzetcook, but slily +and satirically. I do not think this the best way for a young man to +begin with; but nevertheless, Picton managed so well to keep his +sarcasms within the bounds of good humor, that before eleven o'clock we +had become pretty well acquainted. At eleven o'clock the gas is turned +off at Hotel Waverley. We went to bed, and renewed the acquaintance at +breakfast. Picton had travelled overland from Montreal to take the +"Canada" for Liverpool, and had arrived too late.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> Picton had nearly a +fortnight before him in which to anticipate the next steamer. Picton was +terribly bored with Halifax. Picton wanted to go somewhere—where?—"he +did not care where." The consequence was a consultation upon the best +disposal of a fortnight of waste time, a general survey of the maritime +craft of Halifax, the selection of the schooner "Balaklava," bound for +Sydney in ballast, and an understanding with the captain, that the old +French town of Louisburgh was the point we wished to arrive at, into +which harbor we expected to be put safely—three hundred and odd miles +from Halifax, and this side of Sydney about sixty-two miles by sea. To +all this did captain Capstan "seriously incline," and the result was, +two berths in the "Balaklava," several cans of preserved meats and +soups, a hamper of ale, two bottles of Scotch whisky, a ramshackle, +Halifax van for the luggage, a general shaking of hands at departure, +and another set of white sails among the many white sails in the blue +harbor of Chebucto.</p> + +<p>The "Balaklava" glimmered out of the harbor. Slowly and gently we swept +past the islands and great ships; there on the shore is Point Pleasant +in full uniform, its red soldiers and yellow tents in the thick of the +pines and spruces; yonder is the admiralty, and the "Boscawen" +seventy-four, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> receiving-ship, a French war-steamer, and merchantmen +of all flags. Slowly and gently we swept out past the round fort and +long barracks, past the lighthouse and beaches, out upon the tranquil +ocean, with its ominous fog-banks on the skirts of the horizon; out upon +the evening sea, with the summer air fanning our faces, and a large +white Acadian moon, faintly defined overhead.</p> + +<p>Picton was a traveller; anybody could see that he was a traveller, and +if he had then been in any part of the habitable globe, in Scotland or +Tartary, Peru or Pennsylvania, there would not have been the least doubt +about the fact that he was a traveller travelling on his travels. He +looked like a traveller, and was dressed like a traveller. He had a +travelling-cap, a travelling-coat, a portable-desk, a life-preserver, a +water-proof blanket, a travelling-shirt, a travelling green leather +satchel strapped across his shoulder, a Minié-rifle, several trunks +adorned with geographical railway labels of all colors and languages, +cork-soled boots, a pocket-compass, and a hand-organ. As for the +hand-organ, that was an accident in his outfit. The hand-organ was a +present for a little boy on the other side of the ocean; but +nevertheless, it played its part very pleasantly in the cabin of the +"Balaklava." And now let me observe here, that when we left Hali<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>fax in +the schooner, I was scarcely less feeble than when I left New York. I +mention it to show how speedily "roughing it" on the salt water will +bring one's stomach to its senses.</p> + +<p>The "Balaklava" was a fore-and-aft schooner in ballast, and very little +ballast at that; easily handled; painted black outside, and pink inside; +as staunch a craft as ever shook sail; very obedient to the rudder; of +some seventy or eighty tons burden; clean and neat everywhere, except in +the cabin. As for her commander, he was a fine gentleman; true, honest, +brave, modest, prudent and courteous. Sincerely polite, for if +politeness be only kindness mixed with refinement, then Captain Capstan +was polite, as we understand it. The mate of the schooner was a cannie +Scot; by name, Robert, Fitzjames, Buchanan, Wallace, Burns, Bruce; and +Bruce was as jolly a first-mate as ever sailed under the cross-bones of +the British flag. The crew was composed of four Newfoundland sailor men; +and the cook, whose h'eighth letter of the h'alphabet smacked somewhat +strongly of H'albion. As for the rest, there was Mrs. Captain Capstan, +Captain and Mrs. Captain Capstan's baby; Picton and myself. It is cruel +to speak of a baby, except in terms of endearment and affection, and +therefore I could not but condemn Picton, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> would sometimes, in his +position as a traveller, allude to baby in language of most emphatic +character. The fact is, Picton <i>swore</i> at that baby! Baby was in feeble +health and would sometimes bewail its fate as if the cabin of the +"Balaklava" were four times the size of baby's misfortunes. So Picton +got to be very nervous and uncharitable, and slept on deck after the +first night.</p> + +<p>"How do you like this?" said Picton, as we leaned over the side of the +"Balaklava," looking down at the millions of gelatinous quarls in the +clear waters.</p> + +<p>"Oh! very much; this lazy life will soon bring me up; how exhilarating +the air is—how fresh and free!</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'A life on the ocean wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A home on the rolling deep.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Just then the schooner gave a lurch and shook her feathers alow and +aloft by way of chorus. "I like this kind of life very much; how +gracefully this vessel moves; what a beautiful union of strength, +proportion, lightness, in the taper masts, the slender ropes and stays, +the full spread and sweep of her sails! Then how expansive the view, the +calm ocean in its solitude, the receding land, the twinkling lighthouse, +the"——</p> + +<p>"Ever been sea-sick?" said Picton, drily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not often. By the way, my appetite is improving; I think Cookey is +getting tea ready, by the smoke and the smell."</p> + +<p>"Likely," replied Picton; "let us take a squint at the galley."</p> + +<p>To the galley we went, where we saw Cookey in great distress; for the +wind would blow in at the wrong end of his stove-pipe, so as to reverse +the draft, and his stove was smoking at every seam. Poor Cookey's eyes +were full of tears.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you turn the elbow of the pipe the other way?" said Picton.</p> + +<p>"Hi av tried that," said Cookey, "but the helbow is so 'eavy the 'ole +thing comes h'off."</p> + +<p>"Then, take off the elbow," said Picton.</p> + +<p>So Cookey did, and very soon tea was ready. Imagine a cabin, not much +larger than a good-sized omnibus, and far less steady in its motion, +choked up with trunks, and a table about the size of a wash-stand; +imagine two stools and a locker to sit on: a canvas table-cloth in full +blotch; three chipped yellow mugs by way of cups; as many plates, but of +great variety of gap, crack, and pattern; pewter spoons; a +blacking-bottle of milk; an earthen piggin of brown sugar, embroidered +with a lively gang of great, fat, black pismires; hard bread, old as +Nineveh; and butter of a most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> forbidding aspect. Imagine this array set +before an invalid, with an appetite of the most Miss Nancyish kind!</p> + +<p>"One misses the comforts here at sea," said the captain's lady, a pretty +young woman, with a sweet Milesian accent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," said I, glancing again at the banquet.</p> + +<p>"I don't rightly know," she continued, "how I forgot the rocking-chair;" +and she gave baby an affectionate squeeze.</p> + +<p>"And that," said the captain, "is as bad as me forgetting the potatoes."</p> + +<p>Pic and I sat down, but we could neither eat nor drink; we were very +soon on deck again, sucking away dolefully at two precious cigars. At +last he broke out:</p> + +<p>"By gad, to think of it!"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Not a potato on board the 'Balaklava!'"</p> + +<p>So we pulled away dolefully at our segars, in solemn silence.</p> + +<p>"Picton," said I, "did you ever hear 'Annie Laurie?'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Picton, "about as many times as I want to hear it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be impolite, Picton," said I; "it is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> my intention to sing it +this evening. Indeed, I never heard it before I heard it in Halifax. I +had the good fortune to make one of a very pleasant company, at the +house of an old friend in the city, and I must say that song touched me, +both the song and the <i>singing</i> of it. You know it was <i>the</i> song in the +Crimea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Picton, smoking vigorously.</p> + +<p>"I asked Major ——," said I, "if 'Annie Laurie' was sung by the soldiers +in the Crimea; and he replied 'they did not sing anything else; they +sang it,' said he, 'by thousands at a time.' How does it go, Picton? +Come now!"</p> + +<p>So Picton held forth under the moon, and sang "Annie Laurie" on the +"Balaklava." And long after we turned in, the music kept singing on—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Her voice is low and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And she's all the world to me;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for bonnie Annie Laurie<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'd lay me down and dee."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Voyage of the "Balaklava"—Something of a Fog—A Novel +Sensation—Picton bursts out—"Nothing to do"—Breakfast under Way—A +Phantom Boat—Mackerel—Gone, Hook and Line—The Colonists—Sectionalism +and Prejudices—Cod-fishing and an Unexpected Banquet—Past the Old +French Town—A Pretty Respectable Breeze—We get past the +Rocks—Louisburgh.</p> + +<p>"Picton!"</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" replied the traveller, sitting up on his locker; "what is the +matter now?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, only it is morning; let us get up, I want to see the sun rise +out of the ocean."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" replied Picton, "what do you want to be bothering with the sun +for?" And again Picton rolled himself up in his sheet-rubber +travelling-blanket, and stretched his long body out on the locker. I got +up, or rather got down, from my berth, and casting a bucket over the +schooner's side soon made a sea-water toilet. I forgot to mention the +sleeping arrangements of the "Balaklava." There were two lower berths on +one side<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> the cabin, either of which was large enough for two persons; +and two single upper berths on the other side, neither of which was +large enough for one person. At the proper hour for retiring, the +captain's lady shut the cabin-door to keep out intruders, deliberately +arrayed herself in dimity, turned in with baby in one of the large +berths, and reöpened the door. There she lay, wide awake, with her +bright eyes twinkling within the folds of her night cap, unaffected, +chatty, and agreeable; then the captain divested himself of boots and +pea-jacket and turned in beside his lady (the mate slept, when off his +watch, in the other double berth). Picton rolled himself up in his +blanket and stretched out on his locker; I climbed into the narrow coop, +over the salt beef and hard biscuit department; and so we dozed and +talked until sleep reigned over all. In the morning the ceremonies were +reversed, with the exception of the Captain, who was up first. "I never +see a man sleep so little as the captain," said Bruce; "about two hoors, +an' that's aw."</p> + +<p>The sun was already risen when I came out on the deck of the +"Balaklava;" but where <i>was</i> the sun? Indeed, where was the ocean, or +anything? The schooner was barely making steerage-way, with a light +head-wind, over a small patch of water,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> not much larger apparently than +the schooner herself. The air was filled with a luminous haze that +appeared to be penetrable by the eye, and yet was not; that seemed at +once open and dense; near yet afar off; close yet diffuse; contracted +yet boundless. There was no light nor shade, no outline, distance, +aërial perspective. There was no east and west, nor blushing Aurora, +rising from old Tithonus' bed; nor blue sky, nor green sea, nor ship, +nor shore, nor color, tint, hue, ray, or reflection. There was nothing +visible except the sides of the vessel, a maze of dripping rigging, two +sailors bristling with drops, and the captain in a shiny sou-wester. The +feeling of seclusion and security was complete, although we might have +been run down by another vessel at any moment; the air was deliciously +bland, invigorating, and pregnant with life; to breathe it was a +transport; you felt it in every globule of blood, in every pore of the +lungs. I could have hugged that fog, I was so happy!</p> + +<p>Up and down the rolling deck I marched, and with every inspiration of +the moist air, felt the old, tiresome, lingering sickness floating away. +Then I was startled with a new sensation, I began to get hungry!</p> + +<p>It was between four and five o'clock in the morning, and the "Balaklava" +did not breakfast until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> eight. Reader, were you ever hungry <i>at sea</i>? +Were you ever on deck, upon the measureless ocean, four hours earlier +than the ring of the breakfast-bell? Were you ever awake on the briny +deep, in advance, when the cook had yet two hours to sleep; when the +stove in the galley was cold, and the kindling-wood unsplit; the coffee +still in its tender, green, unroasted innocence? Were you ever upon "the +blue, the fresh, the ever free," under these circumstances? If so, I +need not say to <i>you</i> that the sentiment, then and there awakened, is +stronger than avarice, pride, ambition or, love.</p> + +<p>Presently Picton burst out like a flower on deck, in a mass of +over-coats, with an India-rubber mackintosh by way of calyx. These were +his night-clothes. Picton could do nothing except in full costume; he +could not fish, in ever so small a stream, without being booted to the +hips; nor shoot, in ever so good a cover, without being jacketed above +the hips. He shaved himself in front of a silver-mounted dressing-case, +wrote his letters on a portable secretary, drew off his boots with a +patent boot-jack, brewed his punch with a peripatetic kettle, and in +fact carried a little London with him in every quarter of the globe. +"Well," said Picton, looking around at the fog with a low and expressive +whistle, "this <i>is</i> serene!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>Although Picton used the word "serene" ironically, just as a man riding +in an omnibus and suddenly discovering that he was destitute of the +needful sixpence might exclaim, "This is pleasant," yet the phrase was +not out of place. The "Balaklava" was gliding lazily over the water, at +the rate of three knots an hour, sometimes giving a little lurch by way +of shaking the wet out of her invisible sails, for the fog obscured all +her upper canvas, and the mind and body easily yielded to the lullaby +movement of the vessel. Talk of lotus-eating; of Castles of Indolence; +of the dreamy ether inhaled from amber-tubed narghilé; of poppy and +mandragora, and all the drowsy syrups of the world; of rain upon the +midnight roof; the cooing of doves, the hush of falling snow, the murmur +of brooks, the long summer song of grasshoppers in the field, the +tinkling of fountains, and everything else that can soothe, lull, or +tranquillize; and what are these to the serenity of this sail-swinging, +ripple-stirring, gently-creaking craft, in her veil of luminous vapor? +"How delightful this is!" said I.</p> + +<p>The traveller eyed me with surprise, but at last comprehending the idea, +admitted, that with the exception of the fog and the calm, the scarcity +of news, the damp state of the decks, and the want of the morning +papers, it was very charming indeed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> Then the traveller got a little +restive, and began to peer closely into the fog, and look aloft to see +if he could make out the stay-sails, and then he entered into a long +confidential talk with the captain, in relation to the chances of +"getting on," of a fresh breeze springing up, and the fog lifting; +whether we should make Louisburgh by to-morrow night, and if not, when; +with various other salt-water speculations and problems. Then Picton +climbed up on the patent-windlass to get a full view of the fog at the +end of the bow-sprit, and took another survey of the buried stay-sails, +and the flying-jib. Then he and the Newfoundland sailor on the look-out, +had a long consultation of great gravity and importance; and finally he +turned around and came up to the place where I was standing, and broke +out: "I say, what the devil are we to do with ourselves this morning?"</p> + +<p>"What are we to do?" That eternal question. It instantly seemed to +double the thickness of the fog, to arrest the slow movement of the +vessel. Picton had nothing to do for a fortnight, and I had left home +with the sole object of going somewhere where soul and body could rest. +"Nothing to do," was precisely the one thing needful. "Nothing to do," +is exquisite happiness, for real happiness is but a negation. "Nothing +to do," is repose for the body,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> respite for the mind. It is an ideal +hammock swinging in drowsy tropical groves, apart from the roar of the +busy, relentless world; away from the strife of faction, the toils of +business, the restless stretch of ambition, wealth's tinsel pride, +poverty's galling harness. "Nothing to do," is the phantom of young +Imagination, the evanescent hope that promises to crown</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A youth of labor with an age of ease."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Nothing to do," was the charm that lured us on board the "Balaklava," +and now "nothing to do," was with us like the Bottle-Imp, an incubus, +still crying out: "You may yet exchange me for a smaller coin, if such +there be!" "Nothing to do," is an imposture. Something to do is the very +life of life, the beginning and end of being. "Picton," said I, "one +thing we must do, at least, this morning."</p> + +<p>"What is that?" replied the traveller, eagerly opening his mackintosh, +and drawing it off so as to be ready to do it.</p> + +<p>"Taking into consideration the slow and sleepy nature of this climate, +the thickness of the fog, the faint, thin air that impels the vessel, +the early time of day, and the regulations of the 'Balaklava,' it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> seems +to me we shall have to be steadily occupied, for at least three hours, +in waiting for breakfast."</p> + +<p>Then Picton got hungry! He was a large, stout man, wrapped up by a +multitude of garments to the thickness of a polar bear, and when he got +hungry, it was on a scale of corresponding dimensions. First he alluded +to the fact that we had gone supperless to bed the night before; then he +buttoned up his mackintosh, had a brief interview with the captain, +shouted down the gang-way for the cook, and finally disappeared in the +forecastle. Then he came up again with that officer, rummaged in the +galley for the ship's hatchet, and split up all the kindling-wood on +deck; then he shed his petals (mackintosh and over-coats) and instructed +Cookey in the mystery of building a fire. Then he emerged from the +intolerable smoke he had raised in the galley, and devoted himself to +the stove-pipe outside, Cookey, meanwhile, within the caboose, getting +the benefit of all the experiments.</p> + +<p>At last a faint smell of coffee issued forth from the caboose, a little +Arabia breathed through the humid atmosphere, and a sound, as if Cookey +were stirring the berries in a pan, was heard in the midst of the smoke. +Meanwhile Picton descends in the hold with a bucket of salt-water to +enjoy the luxury of a bath, and reappears in full toilet just as Cookey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +is grinding the berries, burnt and green, with a hand-mill between his +knees. The pan by this time is put to a new use; it is now lined with +bacon in full frizzle; presently it will be turned to account as a +bake-pan, for pearl-ash cakes of chrome-yellow complexion: everything +must take its turn; the pan is the actor of all work; it accepts coffee, +cakes, pork, fish, pudding, besides being general dish-washer and +soup-warmer, as we found out before long.</p> + +<p>During the preparation of these successive courses, Picton and I sat on +deck in hungry silence. Now and then an anxious glance at the galley, or +a tormenting whiff of the savory viands, would give new life to the +demon that raged within us. I believe if Cookey had accidentally upset +the coffee tea-kettle, and put out the fire, his sanctuary would have +been sacked instantly. Eight o'clock came, and yet we had not broken +bread. We walked up and down the deck to relieve our appetites. At last +we saw the three cracked mugs, our tea-cups, which had been our +ale-glasses of the night before, brought up for a rinse, and then we +knew that breakfast was not far off. The cloth was spread, the saffron +cakes, ship's butter, yellow mugs, coffee, pork, and pismires temptingly +arrayed. We did not wait to hear the cook ring the bell. We watched him +as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> he came up with it in his hand, and squeezed past him before he +shook out a single vibration.</p> + +<p>Then we made a <span class="smcap">Meal</span>!</p> + +<p>Breakfast being over, the fog lightened a little. Our tiny horizon +widened its boundaries a few hundred feet, or so; we could see once more +the top-mast of the schooner. So we lazily swung along, with nothing to +do again. Sometimes a distant fog-bell; sometimes a distant sound across +the face of the deep, like the falling of cataract waters.</p> + +<p>"What is that sound, Bruce?"</p> + +<p>"It's the surf breakin' on the rocks," responds Bruce; "I hae been +listenen to it for hoors."</p> + +<p>"Are we then so near shore?"</p> + +<p>"About three miles aff," replies the mate.</p> + +<p>Presently we heard the sound of human voices; a laugh; the stroke of +oars in the row-locks, plainly distinguishable in the mysterious vapor. +The captain hailed: "Hallo!" "Halloo!" echoes in answer. The strokes of +the oars are louder and quicker; they are approaching us, but where? +"Halloo!" comes again out of the mist. And again the captain shouts in +reply. Then a white phantom boat, thin, vapory, unsubstantial, now seen, +now lost again, appears on the skirts of our horizon.</p> + +<p>"Where are we?" asks the captain.</p> + +<p>"Off St. Esprit," answer the boatmen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are you after?" asks the captain.</p> + +<p>"Looking for our nets," is the reply; and once more boat and boatmen +disappear in the luminous vapor. These are <i>mackerel fishermen</i>; their +nets are adrift from their stone-anchors: the fish are used for bait in +the cod-fisheries, as well as for salting down. If we could but come +across the nets, what a rare treat we might have at dinner!</p> + +<p>Lazily on we glide—nothing to do. Picton is reading a stunning book; +the captain, his lady, the baby, and I making a small family circle +around the wheel; the mate is on the look-out over the bows; all at +once, he shouts out: "<i>There they are! the nets!</i>" Down goes Picton's +book on the deck; Bruce catches up a rope and fastens it to a large iron +hook; the sailors run to the side of the vessel; captain releases his +forefinger from baby's hand, and catches the wheel; all is excitement in +a moment. "<i>Starboard!</i>" shouts the mate, as the nets come sweeping on, +directly in front of the cut-water. The schooner obeys the wheel, sheers +off, and now, as the floats come along sidewise, Bruce has dropped his +hook in the mesh—<i>it takes hold!</i> and the heavy mass is partially +raised up in the water. "Thousands of them," says Picton; sure enough, +the whole net is alive with mackerel, splashing, quivering, glistening. +"Catch hold here,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> I canna hold them; O the beauties!" says the mate. +Some grasp at the rope, others look around for another hook. "Hauld 'em! +hauld 'em!" shouts Bruce; but the weighty piscatorial mass is too much +for us, it will drag us desperately along the deck to the stern of the +vessel. The schooner is going slowly, but still she is going. Another +hook is rigged and thrown at the struggling mesh; but it breaks loose, +the mackerel are dragging behind the rudder; we are at our rope's end. +At last, rope, hook, and nets are abandoned, and again we have nothing +to do.</p> + +<p>High noon, and a red spot visible overhead; the captain brings out his +sextant to take an observation. This proceeding we viewed with no little +interest, and, for the humor of the thing, I borrowed the sextant of the +captain and took a satirical view of a great luminary in obscurity. As I +had the instrument upside down, the sailors were in convulsions of +laughter; but why should we not make everybody happy when we have it in +our power?</p> + +<p>High noon, and again hunger overtook us. Picton, by this time, had +brought out the cans of preserved meats, the curried tin chicken, the +portable soup, the ale and pickles. The cook was put upon duty; pot and +pan were scoured for more delicate viands; Picton was <i>chef de cuisine</i>; +we had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> magnificent banquet that day on the "Balaklava."</p> + +<p>To give a zest to the entertainment, the captain's lady dined with us; +the mate kindly undertaking the charge of the baby.</p> + +<p>When we came on deck, after a repast that would have been perfect but +for the absence of potatoes, Bruce was marching up and down, dangling +the baby in a way that made it appear all legs; "I doan't see," said he, +"hoo a wummun can lug a baby all day aboot in her airms! I hae only +carried this one half an 'our, and boath airms is sore. But I suppose +it's naturely, it's naturely—everything to its nature."</p> + +<p>The dinner having been a success, Picton was in great spirits for the +rest of the day. The fog spread its munificent halo around us, and +before nightfall broke into myriads of white rainbows—sea-dogs the +sailors call them—and finally lifted so high that we could see the +spectral moon shining through the thin rack. Once more we sang "Annie +Laurie;" the traveller brought out his travelling blanket for a dewy +slumber on deck; the lady <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: +Duplicate 'of' removed">of</ins> the "Balaklava" put on her night-cap and +retired with baby to the double berth: Bruce took the helm. As I was +passing the light in the binnacle, I looked in at the compass for a +moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> "She's nailed there," said the old mate. Nailed there, true to +her course, as steadfast to the guiding rudder as truth is to religion. +We were but a few miles from a dangerous coast, in a vessel of the +frailest kind, but she was "nailed there," obedient to man's +intelligence, and that was security and safety. What a text to say one's +prayers upon!</p> + +<p>"Picton," said I, the next morning, after the schooner-breakfast, "it +seems to me the strangest thing that Mrs. Capstan should have the pure +Irish pronunciation and the mate the thorough Scotch brogue, although +both were born in Newfoundland, and of Newfoundland parents. I must +confess to no small amount of surprise at the complete isolation of the +people of these colonies; the divisions among them; the separate +pursuits, prejudices, languages; they seem to have nothing in common; no +aggregation of interests; it is existence without nationality; +sectionalism without emulation; a mere exotic life with not a fibre +rooted firmly in the soil. The colonists are English, Irish, Scotch, +French, for generation after generation. Why is this, O Picton? Why is +it that the captain's lady has high cheek-bones, and speaks the pure +Hibernise? why is the only railroad in the colony but nine and +three-quarter miles long, and the great Shubenacadie Canal yet +unfinished, although it was begun in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> year 1826; a canal fifty-three +mortal miles in length, already engineered and laid out by nature in a +chain of lakes, most conveniently arranged with the foot of each little +lake at the head of the next one—like 'orient pearls at random +strung'—requiring but a few locks to be complete: the head of the first +lake lying only twelve hundred and ten yards from Halifax harbor, and +the Shubenacadie River itself at the other end, emptying in the place of +destination, namely, the Basin of Minas; a work that, if completed, +would cut off more than three hundred miles of outside voyaging around a +stormy, foggy, dangerous coast; a work that was estimated to cost but +seventy-five thousand pounds, and for which fifteen thousand pounds had +already been subscribed by the government; a work that would be the +saving of so many vessels, crews, and cargoes of so much value; a work +that would traverse one of the most fertile countries in America; a work +that would bring the inland produce within a few hours of the seaboard; +a work so necessary, so obvious, so easily completed, that no Yankee +could see it undone, if it were within the limits of his county, and +have one single night's rest until the waters were leaping from lock to +lock, from lake to lake in one continuous flood of prosperity from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +Minas to Chebucto? Why is this, O traveller of the 'Balaklava?'"</p> + +<p>"The reason of it all," replied Picton, with great equanimity of manner, +"is entirely owing to the stupidity of the people here; the British +government is the best government, sir, in the world; it fosters, +protects, and supports the colonies, with a sort of parental care, sir; +the colonies, sir, afford no recompense to the British government for +its care and protection, sir; each colony is only a bill of expense, +sir, to the mother country, and if, with all these advantages, the +people of these colonies will persist, sir, in being behind the age, +sir, what can we do to prevent it, I would like to know, sir?"</p> + +<p>"It does seem to me, Picton, this fostering, protecting, and paying the +governmental expenses of the colonies, is very like pampering and +amusing a child with sweetmeats and nick-nacks, and at the same time +keeping it in leading-strings. It is very certain that these colonists +would not be the same people if their ancestors had been transplanted, a +century or so ago, to our side of the Bay of Fundy; no, not even if they +had pitched their tents at the 'jumping-off place,' as it is +called—Eastport, for even there they would have produced a crop of pure +Yankees, although grown from divers nations, religions, and tongues."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here Picton turned up his lip, and smiled out of a little battery of +sarcasm: "And you think," said he, after a pause, "that these colonists +would no longer revel in those little prejudices and sectionalisms so +dear to every American heart, if they were transplanted to your own +favored coasts? Why, sir, there is more sectionalism in the country you +would transport these people to, than in any one nation I ever heard of; +every one of your States is a petty principality; it has its own +separate interests; its own bigoted boundaries; its conventionalisms; +its pet laws; and as for its prejudices, I will just ask you, as a +candid man, not as a Yankee, but as a traveller like myself, a +cosmopolite, if you please, what you think of the two great eternal +States of Massachusetts and South Carolina, and whether prejudices and +sectionalisms are to be fairly charged upon these colonies, and upon +them only?"</p> + +<p>"Picton, I will be frank with you. The States you name are looked upon +as the great game-cocks of the Union, and we give them a tolerably large +arena to fight their battles in. Either champion has flapped its wings +and crowed its loudest, and drawn in its local backers, but the great +States of my country are not these two. I feel at this moment an almost +irrepressible desire to instance a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> single one as an example; but +insomuch as nobody has ever flapped wing or crowed because of it, I will +not be the first to break the silence. This much I will say, there are +some States, and those the very greatest in the Union, that neither +claim to be, nor make a merit of being <i>provincial</i>."</p> + +<p>"But, even in your State, you have your stately prejudices," said +Picton, with a marked emphasis upon the "stately."</p> + +<p>"No, sir, we have no stately prejudices, at least among those entitled +to have them, the native-born citizens; nor do I believe such prejudices +exist in many of the States with us at home, sir."</p> + +<p>"But as you admit there is a sectional barrier between your people," +said Picton, "I do not see why our form of government is not as wise as +your form of government."</p> + +<p>"The difference, Picton, is simply this: your government is foreign, and +almost unchangeable; ours is local, and mutable as the flux and reflux +of the tide. As a consequence, sectionalism is active with us, and +apathetic with you. Your colonists have nothing to care for, and we have +everything to care for."</p> + +<p>"Then," said Picton, "we can sleep while you struggle?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Picton, that is the question—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Whether 'tis best to roam or rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The land's lap, or the water's breast?'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>We think it is best to choose the active instead of the stagnant; if a +man cannot take part in the great mechanism of humanity, better to die +than to sleep. And Picton, so far as this is concerned, so far as the +general interests of humanity are concerned, your colonists are only +<i>dead men</i>, while our "stately" men are individually responsible, not +only to their own kind, but to all human kind, and herein each form of +government tells its own story."</p> + +<p>"I think you are rather severe upon poor Nova Scotia this morning," said +Picton, drily.</p> + +<p>"You mistake me, Picton; I do not intend to cast any reflections upon +the people; I am only contrasting the effects produced by two different +forms of government upon neighboring bodies of men that would have been +alike had either a republican or monarchical rule obtained over both."</p> + +<p>"Likely," said Picton, sententiously.</p> + +<p>Meantime the schooner was lazily holding her course through the fog, +which was now dense as ever. What an odd little bit of ocean this is to +be on! "The sea, the sea, the open sea," all your own, with a diameter +of perhaps forty yards. Picton, who is full of activity, begins to +unroll the log line; the captain turns the glass, away goes the log.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +"Stop," "not three knots!" and then comes the question again: "What +shall we do?—we are getting becalmed!"</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" said Picton, slapping his thigh, "I have it—<i>cod-fish</i>!"</p> + +<p>There are plenty of hooks on board the "Balaklava," and unfortunately +only one cod-line; but what with the deep-sea lead-and-line, and a roll +of blue cord, with a spike for a sinker, and the hooks, we are soon in +the midst of excitement. Now we almost pray for a calm; the schooner +<i>will</i> heave ahead, and leave the lines astern; but nevertheless, up +come the fine fish, and plenty of them, too; the deck is all flop and +glister with cod, haddock, pollock; and Cookey, with a short knife, is +at work with the largest, preparing them for the banquet, according to +the code Newfoundland. Certainly the art of "cooking a cod-fish" is not +quite understood, except in this part of the world. The white flakes do +not exhibit the true conchoidal fracture in such perfection elsewhere; +nor break off in such delicious morsels, edged with delicate brown. +"Another bottle of ale, please, and a granitic biscuit, and a pickle, by +way of dessert."</p> + +<p>Lazily along swings the "Balaklava." Picton brings up his travelling +blanket, and we stretch out upon it on deck, basking in the warm, humid +light,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> and leisurely puffing away at our segars, for we have nothing +else to do. Towards evening it grows colder, very much colder; +over-coats are in requisition; the captain says we are nearing some +icebergs; the fog folds itself up and hangs above us in strips of cloud, +or rolls away in voluminous masses to the edges of the horizon. The +stars peep out between the strips overhead, the moon sends forth her +silver vapors and finally emerges from the "crudded clouds;" the wake of +the schooner is one long phosphoric trail of flame; the masts are +creaking, sails stretching, the waters pouring against the bows; out on +the deep, white crests lift and break, the winds are loosened, and now +good speed to the "Balaklava." Meanwhile, the hitherto listless +Newfoundland men are now wide awake, and busy; the man at the wheel is +on the alert; the captain is looking at his charts; Picton and I walking +the deck briskly, but unsteadily, to keep off the cold; Mrs. Capstan has +turned in with the baby. Blacker and larger waves are rising, with +whiter crests; on and on goes the schooner with dip and rise—tossing +her yards as a stag tosses his antlers. On and on goes the brave +"Balaklava," the captain at the bows on the look-out; the sky is mottled +with clouds, but fortunately there is no fog; nine, ten o'clock, and at +last a light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> begins to lift in the distance. "Is it Louisburgh light, +captain?" "I don't make it out yet," replies Captain Capstan, "but I +think it is not." After a pause, he adds: "Now I see what it is; it is +Scattarie light—we have passed Louisburgh."</p> + +<p>This was not pleasant; we had undertaken the voyage for the sake of +visiting the old French town. To be sure, it was a great disappointment. +But then we were rapidly nearing Scattarie light; and after we doubled +the island, the wind would be right astern of us, and by breakfast time +we would be in the harbor of Sydney.</p> + +<p>"Captain," said we, after a brief consultation, "we will leave the +matter entirely to you; although we had hoped to see Louisburgh this +night, yet we can visit it overland to-morrow; and as the wind is so +favorable for you, why, crack on to Sydney, if you like."</p> + +<p>With that we resumed our walk to keep up the circulation.</p> + +<p>"It is strange," said Picton, "the captain should have passed the light +without seeing it."</p> + +<p>"Ever since we left Richmond," said the man at the wheel, "his eyes has +been weak, so as he couldn't see as good as common."</p> + +<p>"Did you see the light?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I can see it now, right astern of us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>We looked, and at last made it out: a faint, nebulous star, upon the +very edge of the gloomy waters.</p> + +<p>"There is the light, captain."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Right astern."</p> + +<p>The captain walked aft to the steersman and peered anxiously in the +distance. Then he came forward again, and shouted down the forecastle: +"Hallo, hallo, turn out there! all hands on deck! turn out, men! turn +out!"</p> + +<p>"What now, captain?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said he, "only I am going to <i>about-ship</i>."</p> + +<p>And sure enough, the little schooner came up to the wind; the men hauled +away at the sheets, the sails fluttered—filled upon the new tack, and +in a few minutes our bows were pointed for Louisburgh.</p> + +<p>The "Balaklava" had barely broadened out her sails to the fair wind, +after she had been put about, when we were conscious of an increased +straining and chirping of the masts and sails, an uneasy, laborious +motion of the vessel; of blacker and larger waves, of whiter and higher +crests, that sometimes broke over the bows, even, and made the deck wet +and slippery. The moon was now rising high, but the clouds were rapidly +thickening, and her majesty seemed to be reeling from side to side, as +we bore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> on, with plunge and shudder, for the light ahead of us. Bruce +had taken the wheel; all hands were on deck, and all busy, hauling upon +this rope or that, taking in the stay-sails and flying-jib, as the +captain shouted out from time to time; and looking ahead, with no little +appearance of anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Ah! she's a pretty creature," said the mate; "look there," nodding with +his head at the compass, "did'na I tell you? She's nailed there." Then +he broke out again: "Ay, she's a flyin' noo; see hoo she's <i>raisin' the +light</i>!"</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, surprising to see the great beacon rising higher and +higher out of the water.</p> + +<p>"Is it a good harbor, Bruce?"</p> + +<p>"<i>When ye get in</i>," answered the mate; "but it's narrar, it's narrar; ye +can pitch a biscuit ashore as ye go through; and inside o't is the +'Nag's Head,' a sunken bit o' rock, with about five feet water; if ye +<i>miss</i> that, ye're aw right!" We were now rapidly approaching the +beacon, and could fairly see the rocks and beach in the track of its +light. On the other side there were great masses of savage surf, +whirling high up in the night, the indications of the three islands on +the west of the harbor. The captain had climbed up in the rigging to +keep a good look-out ahead; the light of the beacon broadened on the +deck; we were within the very jaws of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> the crags and surf; the wild +ocean beating against the doors of the harbor; the churning, whirling, +whistling danger on either side, lighted up by the glare of the beacon! +past we go, and, with a sweep, the "Balaklava" evades the "Nag's Head," +and rounding too, drops sail and anchor beside the walls of Louisburgh.</p> + +<p>Then the thick fog, which had been pursuing us, came, and enveloped all +in obscurity.</p> + +<p>"It is lucky," said Captain Capstan, "that it didn't come ten minutes +sooner."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Louisburgh—The Great French Fortress—Incidents of the Old French +War—Relics of the Siege—Description of the Town—The two +Expeditions—A Yankee <i>ruse de guerre</i>—The Rev. Samuel Moody's +Grace—Wolfe's Landing—The Fisherman's Hutch—The Lost Coaster—The +Fisheries—Picton tries his hand at a fish-pugh.</p> + +<p>Nearly a century has elapsed since the fall of Louisburgh. The great +American fortress of Louis XV. surrendered to Amherst, Wolfe, and +Boscawen in 1758. A broken sea-wall of cut stone; a vast amphitheatre, +inclosed within a succession of green mounds; a glacis; and some miles +of surrounding ditch, yet remain—the relics of a structure for which +the treasury of France paid Thirty Millions of Livres!</p> + +<p>We enter where had been the great gate, and walk up what had been the +great avenue. The vision follows undulating billows of green turf that +indicate the buried walls of a once powerful military town. Fifteen +thousand people were gathered in and about these walls; six thousand +troops were locked within this fortress, when the key turned in the +stupendous gate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>A hundred years since, the very air of the spot where we now stand, +vibrated with the chime of the church-bells and the roll of the stately +organ, or wafted to devout multitudes the savor of holy incense. Here +were congregated the soldiers, merchants, artisans of old France; on +these high walls paced the solemn sentry; in these streets the nun stole +past in her modest hood; or the romantic damsel pressed her cheek to the +latticed window, as the young officer rode by and, martial music filled +the avenues with its inspiring strains; in yonder bay floated the great +war-ships of Louis; and around the shores of this harbor could be +counted battery after battery, with scores of guns bristling from the +embrasures.</p> + +<p>The building of this stronghold was a labor of twenty-five years. The +stone walls rose to the height of thirty-six feet. In those broken +arches, studded with stalactites, those casemates, or vaults of the +citadel, you still see some evidence of its former strength. You will +know the citadel by them, and by the greater height of the mounds which +mark the walls that once encompassed it. Within these stood the smaller +military chapel. Think of looking down from this point upon those broad +avenues, busy with life, a hundred years ago!</p> + +<p>Neither roof nor spire remain now; nor square<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> nor street; nor convent, +church, or barrack. The green turf covers all: even the foundations of +the houses are buried. It is a city without an inhabitant. Dismantled +cannon, with the rust clinging in great flakes; scattered implements of +war; broken weapons, bayonets, gun-locks, shot, shell or grenade, +unclaimed, untouched, corroded and corroding, in silence and desolation, +with no signs of life visible within these once warlike parapets except +the peaceful sheep, grazing upon the very brow of the citadel, are the +only relics of once powerful Louisburgh.</p> + +<p>Let us recall the outlines of its history. In the early part of the last +century, just after the death of Louis XIV., these foundations were +laid, and the town named in honor of the ruling monarch. Nova Scotia +proper had been ceded, by recent treaty, to the filibusters of Old and +New-England, but the ancient Island of Cape Breton still owned +allegiance to the lilies of France. Among the beautiful and commodious +harbors that indent the southern coast of the island, this one was +selected as being most easy of access. Although naturally well adapted +for defence, yet its fortification cost the government immense sums of +money, insomuch as all the materials for building had to be brought from +a distance. Belknap thus describes it: "It was environed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> two miles and +a half in circumference, with a rampart of stone from thirty to +thirty-six feet high, and a ditch eighty feet wide, with the exception +of a space of two hundred yards near the sea, which was inclosed by a +dyke and a line of pickets. The water in this place was shallow, and +numerous reefs rendered it inaccessible to shipping, while it received +an additional protection from the side-fire of the bastions. There were +six-bastions and eight batteries, containing embrasures for one hundred +and forty-eight cannon, of which forty-five only were mounted, and eight +mortars. On an island at the entrance of the harbor was planted a +battery of thirty cannon, carrying twenty-eight pound shot; and at the +bottom of the harbor was a grand, or royal battery, of twenty-eight +cannon, forty-two pounders, and two eighteen-pounders. On a high cliff, +opposite to the island-battery, stood a light house, and within this +point, at the north-east part of the harbor, was a careening wharf, +secure from all winds, and a magazine of naval stores. The town was +regularly laid out in squares; the streets were broad and commodious, +and the houses, which were built partly of wood upon stone foundations, +and partly of more durable materials, corresponded with the general +appearance of the place. In the centre of one of the chief bastions was +a stone building, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> a moat on the side near the town, which was +called the citadel, though it had neither artillery nor a structure +suitable to receive any. Within this building were the apartments of the +governor, the barracks for the soldiers, and the arsenal; and, under the +platform of the redoubt, a magazine well furnished with military stores. +The parish church, also, stood within the citadel, and without was +another, belonging to the hospital of St. Jean de Dieu, which was an +elegant and spacious structure. The entrance to the town was over a +drawbridge, near which was a circular battery, mounting sixteen guns of +fourteen-pound shot."</p> + +<p>This cannon-studded harbor was the naval dépôt of France in America, the +nucleus of its military power, the protector of its fisheries, the key +of the gulf of St. Lawrence, the Sebastopol of the New World. For a +quarter of a century it had been gathering strength by slow degrees: +Acadia, poor inoffensive Acadia, from time to time, had been the prey of +its rapacious neighbors; but Louisburgh had grown amid its protecting +batteries, until Massachusetts felt that it was time for the armies of +Gad to go forth and purge the threshing-floor with such ecclesiastical +iron fans as they were wont to waft peace and good will with, wherever +there was a fine opening for profit and edification.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>The first expedition against Louisburgh was only justifiable upon the +ground that the wants of New England for additional territory were +pressing, and immediate action, under the circumstances, indispensable. +Levies of colonial troops were made, both in and out of the territories +of the saints. The forces, however, actually employed, came from +Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire; the first supplying three +thousand two hundred, the second five hundred, the third three hundred +men. The coöperation of Commodore Warren, of the English West-Indian +fleet, was solicited; but the Commodore declined, on the ground "that +the expedition was wholly a provincial affair, undertaken without the +assent, and probably without the knowledge, of the ministry." But +Governor Shirley was not a man to stop at trifles. He had a heart of +lignum vitæ, a rigid anti-papistical conscience, beetle brows, and an +eye to the cod-fisheries. Higher authority than international law was +pressed into the service. George Whitefield, then an itinerant preacher +in New-England, furnished the necessary warrant for the expedition, by +giving a motto for its banner: "<i>Nil desperandum Christo duce</i>"—Nothing +is to be despaired of with <span class="smcap">Christ</span> for leader. The command was, however, +given to William Pepperel, a fish and shingle merchant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> of Maine. One of +the chaplains of the filibusters carried a hatchet specially sharpened, +to hew down the wooden images in the churches of Louisburgh. Everything +that was needed to encourage and cheer the saints, was provided by +Governor Shirley, especially a goodly store of New England rum, and the +Rev. Samuel Moody, the lengthiest preacher in the colonies. Louisburgh, +at that time feebly garrisoned, held out bravely in spite of the +formidable array concentrated against it. In vain the Rev. Samuel Moody +preached to its high stone walls; in vain the iconoclast chaplain +brandished his ecclesiastical hatchet; in vain Whitefield's banner +flaunted to the wind. The fortress held out against shot and shell, +saint, flag and sermon. New England ingenuity finally circumvented +Louisburgh. Humiliating as the confession is, it must be admitted that +our pious forefathers did actually abandon "<span class="smcap">Christo</span> duce," and used +instead a little worldly artifice.</p> + +<p>Commodore Warren, who had declined taking a part in the siege of +Louisburgh, on account of the regulations of the service, had received, +after the departure of the expedition, instructions to keep a look-out +for the interests of his majesty in North America, which of course could +be readily interpreted, by an experienced officer in his majesty's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +service, to mean precisely what was meant to be meant. As a consequence, +Commodore Warren was speedily on the look-out, off the coast of Cape +Breton, and in the course of events fell in with, and captured, the +"Vigilant," seventy-four, commanded by Captain Stronghouse, or, as his +title runs, "the Marquis de la Maison Forte." The "Vigilant" was a +store-ship, filled with munitions of war for the French town. Here was a +glorious opportunity. If the saints could only intimate to Duchambon, +the Governor of Louisburgh, that his supplies had been cut off, +Duchambon might think of capitulation. But unfortunately the French were +prejudiced against the saints, and would not believe them under oath. +But when probity fails, a little ingenuity and artifice will do quite as +well. The chief of the expedition was equal to the emergency. He took +the Marquis of Stronghouse to the different ships on the station, where +the French prisoners were confined, and showed him that they were +treated with great civility; then he represented to the Marquis that the +New England prisoners were cruelly dealt with in the fortress of +Louisburgh; and requested him to write a letter, in the name of +humanity, to Duchambon, Governor, in behalf of those suffering saints; +"expressing his approbation of the conduct of the English, and +entreating similar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> usuage for those whom the fortune of war had thrown +in his hands." The Marquis wrote the letter; thus it begins: "On board +the 'Vigilant,' <i>where I am a prisoner</i>, before Louisburgh, June +thirteen, 1745." The rest of the letter is unimportant. The confession +of Captain Stronghouse, that he was a prisoner, was the point; and the +consequences thereof, which had been foreseen by the filibustering +besiegers, speedily followed. In three days Louisburgh capitulated.</p> + +<p>Then the Rev. Samuel Moody greatly distinguished himself. He was a +painful preacher; the most untiring, persevering, long-winded, +clamorous, pertinacious vessel at craving a blessing, in the provinces. +There was a great feast in honor of the occasion. But more formidable +than the siege itself, was the anticipated "grace" of Brother Moody. New +England held its breath when he began, and thus the Reverend Samuel: +"Good Lord, we have so many things to thank Thee for, that time will be +infinitely too short to do it; we must therefore leave it for the work +of eternity."</p> + +<p>Upon this there was great rejoicing, yea, more than there had been upon +the capture of the French stronghold. Who shall say whether Brother +Moody's brevity may not stretch farther across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> intervals of time +than the longest preaching ever preached by mortal preacher?</p> + +<p>In three years after its capture, Louisburgh was restored to the French +by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. Ten years after its restoration, a +heavier armament, a greater fleet, a more numerous army, besieged its +almost impregnable walls. Under Amherst, Boscawen, and Wolfe, no less +than twenty-three ships of war, eighteen frigates, sixteen thousand land +forces, with a proportionable train of cannon and mortars, were arrayed +against this great fortress in the year 1758. Here, too, many of our own +ancestral warriors were gathered in that memorable conflict; here +Gridley, who afterwards planned the redoubt at Bunker Hill, won his +first laurels as an engineer; here Pomeroy distinguished himself, and +others whose names are not recorded, but whose deeds survive in the +history of a republic. The very drum that beat to arms before Louisburgh +was braced again when the greater drama of the Revolution opened at +Concord and Lexington.</p> + +<p>The siege continued for nearly two months. From June 8th until July +26th, the storm of iron and fire—of rocket, shot, and shell—swept from +yonder batteries, upon the castellated city. Then when the King's, the +Queen's, the Dauphin's bastions were lying in ruins, the commander, Le +Cheva<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>lier de Drucour, capitulated, and the lilies of the Bourbon waved +over Louisburgh no more.</p> + +<p>And here we stand nearly a century after, looking out from these +war-works upon the desolate harbor. At the entrance, the wrecks of three +French frigates, sunk to prevent the ingress of the British fleet, yet +remain; sometimes visited by our still enterprising countrymen, who come +down in coasters with diving-bell and windlass, to raise again from the +deep, imbedded in sea-shells, the great guns that have slept in the ooze +so long. Between those two points lay the ships of the line, and +frigates of Louis; opposite, where the parapets of stone are yet +visible, was the grand battery of forty guns: at Lighthouse Point +yonder, two thousand grenadiers, under General Wolfe, drove back the +French artillerymen, and tamed their cannon upon these mighty walls. +Here the great seventy-four blew up; there the English boats were sunk +by the guns of the fortress; day and night for many weeks this ground +has shuddered with the thunders of the cannonade.</p> + +<p>And what of all this? we may ask. What of the ships that were sunk, and +those that floated away with the booty? What of the soldiers that fell +by hundreds here, and those that lived? What of the prisoners that +mourned, and the captors that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> triumphed? What of the flash of +artillery, and the shattered wall that answered it? Has any benefit +resulted to mankind from this brilliant achievement? Can any man, of any +nation, stand here and say: "This work was wrought to my profit?" Can +any man draw such a breath here amid these buried walls, as he can upon +the humblest sod that ever was wet with the blood of patriotism? I trow +not.</p> + +<p>A second time in possession of this stronghold, England had not the +means to maintain her conquest; the fortification was too large for any +but a powerful garrison. A hundred war-ships had congregated in that +harbor: frigates, seventy-fours, transports, sloops, under the +<i>Fleur-de-lis</i>. Although Louisburgh was the pivot-point of the French +possessions, yet it was but an outside harbor for the colonies. So the +order went forth to destroy the town that had been reared with so much +cost, and captured with so much sacrifice. And it took two solid years +of gunpowder to blow up these immense walls, upon which we now sadly +stand, O gentle reader! Turf, turf, turf covers all! The gloomiest +spectacle the sight of man can dwell upon is the desolate, but once +populous, abode of humanity. Egypt itself is cheerful compared with +Louisburgh!</p> + +<p>"It rains," said Picton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>It had rained all the morning; but what did that matter when a hundred +years since was in one's mind? Picton, in his mackintosh, was an +impervious representative of the nineteenth century; but I was as fully +saturated with water as if I were living in the place under the old +French <i>régime</i>.</p> + +<p>"Let us go down," said Picton, "and see the jolly old fishermen outside +the walls. What is the use of staying here in the rain after you have +seen all that can be seen? Come along. Just think how serene it will be +if we can get some milk and potatoes down there."</p> + +<p>There are about a dozen fishermen's huts on the beach outside the walls +of the old town of Louisburgh. When you enter one it reminds you of the +descriptive play-bill of the melo-drama—"Scene II.: Interior of a +Fisherman's Cottage on the Sea-shore: Ocean in the Distance." The walls +are built of heavy timbers, laid one upon another, and caulked with moss +or oakum. Overhead are square beams, with pegs for nets, poles, guns, +boots, the heterogeneous and picturesque tackle with which such ceilings +are usually ornamented. But oh! how clean everything is! The knots are +fairly scrubbed out of the floor-planks, the hearth-bricks red as +cherries, the dresser-shelves worn thin with soap and sand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> and white +as the sand with which they have been scoured. I never saw drawing-room +that could compare with the purity of that interior. It was cleanliness +itself; but I saw many such before I left Louisburgh, in both the old +town and the new.</p> + +<p>We sat down in the "hutch," as they call it, before a cheery wood-fire, +and soon forgot all about the outside rain. But if we had shut out the +rain, we had not shut out the neighboring Atlantic. That was near +enough; the thunderous surf, whirling, pouring, breaking against the +rocky shore and islands, was sounding in our ears, and we could see the +great white masses of foam lifted against the sky from the window of the +hutch, as we sat before the warm fire.</p> + +<p>"You was lucky to get in last night," said the master of the hutch, an +old, weather-beaten fisherman.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Picton, surveying the grey head before him with as much +complacency as he would a turnip; "and a serene old place it is when we +get in."</p> + +<p>To this the weather-beaten replied by winking twice with both eyes.</p> + +<p>"Rather a dangerous coast," continued Picton, stretching out one thigh +before the fire. "I say,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> don't you fishermen often lose your lives out +there?" and he pointed to the mouth of the harbor.</p> + +<p>"There was only two lives lost <i>in seventy years</i>," replied the old man +(this remarkable fact was confirmed by many persons of whom we asked the +same question during our visit), "and one of them was a young man, a +stranger here, who was capsized in a boat as he was going out to a +vessel in the harbor."</p> + +<p>"You are speaking now of lives lost in the fisheries," said Picton, "not +in the coasting trade."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" replied the old man, shaking his head, "the coasting trade is +different; there is a many lives lost in that. Last year I had a brother +as sailed out of this in a shallop, on the same day as yon vessel," +pointing to the Balaklava; "he went out in company with your captain; he +was going to his wedding, he thought, poor fellow, for he was to bring a +young wife home with him from Halifax, but he got caught in a storm off +Canseau, and we never heard of the shallop again. He was my youngest +brother, gentlemen."</p> + +<p>It was strange to be seated in that old cottage, listening to so dreary +a story, and watching the storm outside. There was a wonderful +fascination in it, nevertheless, and I was not a little loth to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> leave +the bright hearth when the sailors from the schooner came for us and +carried us on board again to dinner.</p> + +<p>The storm continued; but Picton and I found plenty to do that day. +Equipped with oil-skin pea-jackets and sou'-westers, with a couple of +<i>fish-pughs</i>, or poles, pointed with iron, we started on a cruise after +lobsters, in a sort of flat-bottomed skiff, peculiar to the place, +called a <i>dingledekooch</i>. And although we did not catch one lobster, yet +we did not lose sight of many interesting particulars that were +scattered around the harbor. And first of the fisheries. All the people +here are directly or indirectly engaged in this business, and to this +they devote themselves entirely; farming being scarcely thought of. I +doubt whether there is a plough in the place; certainly there was not a +horse, in either the old or new town, or a vehicle of any kind, as we +found out betimes.</p> + +<p>The fishing here, as in all other places along the coast, is carried on +in small, clinker-built boats, sharp at both ends, and carrying two +sails. It is marvellous with what dexterity these boats are handled; +they are out in all weathers, and at all times, night or day, as it +happens, and although sometimes loaded to the gunwale with fish, yet +they encounter the roughest gales, and ride out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> storms in safety, that +would be perilous to the largest vessels.</p> + +<p>"I can carry all sail," said one old fellow, "when the captain there +would have to take in every rag on the schooner."</p> + +<p>And such, too, was the fact. These boats usually sail a few miles from +the shore, rarely beyond twelve; the fish are taken with hand-lines +generally, but sometimes a set line with buoys and anchors is used. The +fish, are cured on <i>flakes</i>, or high platforms, raised upon poles from +the beach, so that one end of the staging is over the water. The cod are +thrown up from the boat to the flake by means of the fish-pugh—a sort +of one-pronged, piscatory pitchfork—and cleaned, salted, and cured +there; then spread out to dry on the flake, or on the beach, and packed +for market. <i>Nothing can be neater and cleaner than the whole system of +curing the fish!</i> popular opinion to the contrary notwithstanding. The +fishermen of Louisburgh are a happy, contented, kind, and simple people. +Living, as they do, far from the jarring interests of the busy world, +having a common revenue, for the ocean supplies each and all alike; +pursuing an occupation which is constant discipline for body and soul; +brave, sincere, and hospitable by nature, for all of these virtues are +inseparable from their relations to each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> other; one can scarcely be +with them, no matter how brief the visit, without feeling a kindred +sympathy; without having a vague thought of "sometime I may be only too +glad to escape from the world and accept this humble happiness instead;" +without a dreamy idea of "Perhaps <i>this</i>, after all, is the real +Arcadia!"</p> + +<p>While I was indulging in these reflections, it was amusing to see Picton +at work! The heads and entrails of the cod-fish, thrown from the +"flakes" into the water, attract thousands of the baser tribes, such as +sculpins, flounders, and toad-fish, who feed themselves fat upon the +offals, and enjoy a peaceful life under the clear waters of the harbor. +As the dingledekooch floated silently over them, they lay perfectly +quiet and unsuspicious of danger, although within a few feet of the +fatal fish-pugh, and in an element almost as transparent as air. +Lobster, during the storm, had gone off to other grounds; but here were +great flat flounders and sculpin, within reach of the indefatigable +Picton. Down went the fish-pugh and up came the game! The bottom of the +skiff was soon covered with the spearings of the traveller. Great +flounders, those sub-marine buckwheat cakes; sculpins, bloated with rage +and wind, like patriots out of office; toad-fish, savage and vindictive +as Irishmen in a riot. Down went the fish-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>pugh! It was rare sport, and +no person could have enjoyed it more than Picton—except perhaps some of +the veteran fishermen of Louisburgh, who were gathered on the beach +watching the doings in the dingledekooch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">A most acceptable Invitation—- An Evening in the Hutch—Old +Songs—Picton in High Feather—Wolfe and Montcalm—Reminiscences of the +Siege—Anecdotes of Wolfe—A Touch of Rhetoric and its Consequences.</p> + +<p>Quite a little crowd of fishermen gathered around us, as the +dingledekooch ran bows on the beach, and Picton, warm with exercise and +excitement, leaped ashore, flourishing his piscatorial javelin with an +air of triumph, which oddly contrasted with the faces of the +Louisburghers, who looked at him and at his game, with countenances of +great gravity—either real or assumed. Presently, another boat ran bows +on the beach beside our own, and from this jumped Bruce, our jolly first +mate, who had come ashore to spend a few hours with an old friend, at +one of the hutches. To this we were hospitably invited also, and were +right glad to uncase our limbs of stiff oil-skin and doff our +sou'-westers, and sit down before the cheery fire, piled up with spruce +logs and hackmatack; comfortable, indeed, was it to be thus snugly +housed, while the weather outside was so lowering, and the schooner wet +and cold with rain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> To be sure, our gay and festive hall was not so +brilliant as some, but it was none the less acceptable on that account; +and, before long, a fragrant rasher of bacon, fresh eggs, white bread, +and a strong cup of bitter tea made us feel entirely happy. Then these +viands being removed, there came pipes and tobacco; and as something +else was needed to crown the symposium, Picton whispered a word in the +ear of Bruce, who presently disappeared, to return again after a brief +absence, with some of our stores from the schooner. Then the table was +decked again, with china mugs of dazzling whiteness, lemons, hot water, +and a bottle of old Glenlivet; and from the centre of this gallant show, +the one great lamp of the hutch cast its mellow radiance around, and +nursed in the midst of its flame a great ball of red coal that burned +like a bonfire. Then, when our host, the old fisherman, brought out a +bundle of warm furs, of moose and cariboo skins, and distributed them +around on the settles and broad, high-backed benches, so that we could +loll at our ease, we began to realize a sense of being quite snug and +cozy, and, indeed, got used to it in a surprisingly short space of time.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," said Picton, "this is what I call serene," and the +traveller relapsed into his usual activity; after a brief respite—"I +say, give us a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> song, will you, now, some of you; something about this +jolly old place, now—'Brave Wolfe,' or 'Boscawen,'" and he broke out—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'My name d'ye see's Tom Tough, I've seen a little sarvice,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where mighty billows roll and loud tempests blow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've sailed with noble Howe, and I've sailed with noble Jarvis,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And in Admiral Duncan's fleet I've sung yeo, heave, yeo!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And more ye must be knowin',<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I was cox'son to Boscawen<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When our fleet attacked Louisburgh,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And laid her bulwarks low.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But push about the grog, boys!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hang care, it killed a cat,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Push about the grog, and sing—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Yeo, heave, yeo!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Good Lord!" said the old fisherman, "I harn't heard that song for +more'n thirty years. Sing us another bit of it, please."</p> + +<p>But Picton had not another bit of it; so he called lustily for some one +else to sing. "Hang it, sing something," said the traveller. "'How +stands the glass around;' that, you know, was written by Wolfe; at +least, it was sung by him the night before the battle of Quebec, and +they call it Wolfe's death song—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'How stands the glass around?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For shame, ye take no care, my boys!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How stands the glass around?'"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>Here Picton forgot the next line, and substituted a drink for it, in +correct time with the music:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'The trumpets sound;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The colors flying are, my boys,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To fight, kill, or wound'"——<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Another slip of the memory [drink]:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'May we still be found,'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He has found it, and repeats emphatically:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'May we still be found!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content with our hard fare, my boys,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>[all drink]</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On the cold ground!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Then there is another song," said Picton, lighting his pipe with coal +and tongs; "'Wolfe and Montcalm'—you must know that," he continued, +addressing the old fisherman. But the ancient trilobite did not know it; +indeed, he was not a singer, so Picton trolled lustily forth—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'He lifted up his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">While the cannons did rattle,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To his aid de camp he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'How goes the battail?'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The aid de camp, he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">''Tis in our favor;'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Oh! then,' brave Wolfe replied,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'I die with pleasure!'"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>"There," said Picton, throwing himself back upon the warm and cosy furs, +"I am at the end of my rope, gentlemen. Sing away, some of you," and the +traveller drew a long spiral of smoke through his tube, and ejected it +in a succession of beautiful rings at the beams overhead.</p> + +<p>"Picton," said I, "what a strange, romantic interest attaches itself to +the memory of Wolfe. The very song you have sung, 'How stands the glass +around,' although not written by him, for it was composed before he was +born, yet has a currency from the popular belief that he sang it on the +evening preceding his last battle. And, indeed, it is by no means +certain that Gray's Elegy does not derive additional interest from a +kindred tradition."</p> + +<p>"What is that?" said the traveller.</p> + +<p>"Of course you will remember it. When Gray had completed the Elegy, he +sent a copy of it to his friend, General Wolfe, in America; and the +story goes, that as the great hero was sitting, wrapped in his military +cloak, on board the barge which the sailors were rowing up the St. +Lawrence, towards Quebec, he produced the poem, and read it in silence +by the waning light of approaching evening, until he came to these +lines, which he repeated aloud to his officers:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Await alike the inevitable hour'——"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then pausing for a moment, he finished the stanza:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'The paths of glory lead but to the grave.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he added, "I would rather be the writer of this poem, than +the greatest conqueror the world ever produced."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said the old fisherman, sententiously. "We are all bound +to that place, sometime or other."</p> + +<p>"What place?" said Picton, rousing up.</p> + +<p>"The berrying-ground," answered the ancient; "that is if we don't get +overboard instead."</p> + +<p>"But," he continued, "since you are speaking of General Wolfe, you must +know my grandfather served under him at Minden, and at the battle here, +too, where he was wounded, and left behind, when the general went back +to England."</p> + +<p>"I thought he went from this place to Quebec," said Picton.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," replied the old man, "he went first to London, and came back +again, and then went to Canada. Well," he continued, "my grandfather +served under him, and was left here to get over his wownds, and so he +married my grandmother, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> lived in Louisburgh after the French were +all sent away." Here the veteran placed his paws on the table, and +looked out into the infinite. We could see we were in for a long story. +"All the French soldiers and sailors, you see, were sent to England +prisoners of war—and the rest of the people were sent to France; the +governor of this here place was named Drucour; he was taken to +Southampton, and put in prison. Well now, as I was saying, this hutch of +mine was built by my father, just here by Wolfe's landing, for +grandfather took a fancy to have it built on this spot; you see, Wolfe +rowed over one night in a boat all alone from Lighthouse point yonder, +and stood on the beach right under this here old wall, looking straight +up at the French sentry over his head, and taking a general look at the +town on both sides. There wasn't a man in all his soldiers who would +have stood there at that time for a thousand pounds."</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose the old file was doing over here?" inquired Picton, +who was getting sleepy.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," answered our host, "except it was his daring. He was the +bravest man of his time, I've heard say—and so young"——</p> + +<p>"Two and thretty only," said Bruce.</p> + +<p>"And a tall, elegant officer, too," continued the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> ancient fisherman. +"I've heard tell how the French governor's lady used to send him +sweetmeats with a flag of truce, and he used to return his compliments +and a pine apple, or something of that kind. Ah, he was a great favorite +with the ladies! I've heard say, he was much admired for his elegant +style of dancing, and always ambitious to have a tall and graceful lady +for his partner, and then he was as much pleased as if he was in the +thick of the fight. He was a great favorite with the soldiers, too; very +careful of them, to see they were well nursed when they were sick, and +sharing the worst and the best with them; but my grandfather used to +say, very strict, too."</p> + +<p>"Who was in command here, Wolfe or Amherst?"</p> + +<p>"General Amherst was in command, and got the credit of it, too; but +Wolfe did the fighting—so grandfather used to say."</p> + +<p>"What was the name of his leddy in the old country?" said Bruce.</p> + +<p>"I do not remember," replied the ancient, "but I've heard it. You know +he was to be married, when he got back to England. And when the first +shot struck him in the wrist, at Quebec, he took out <i>her</i> handkerchief +from his breast-pocket, smiled, wrapped it about the place, and went on +with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> battle as if nothing had happened. But, soon after he got +another wound, and yet he wasn't disheartened, but waved his ratan over +his head, for none of the officers carried swords there, and kept on, +until the third bullet went through and through his breast, when he fell +back, and just breathed like, till word was brought that the French were +retreating, when he said, then 'I am content,' and so closed his eyes +and died."</p> + +<p>Here there was a pause. Our entertainer, waving his hand towards our +mugs of Glenlivet, by way of invitation, lifted his own to his mouth by +the handle, and with a dexterous tilt that showed practice, turned its +bottom towards the beams of the hutch.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember any farther particulars of the siege of Louisburgh?" I +asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," replied the old man, "I remember grandfather telling us how +he saw the bodies of fifteen or sixteen deserters hanging over the +walls; they were Germans that had been sold to the French, four years +before the war, by a Prussian colonel. Some of them got away, and came +over to our side. He used to say, the old town looked like a big ship +when they came up to it; it had two tiers of guns, one above the other, +on the south—that is towards Gabarus bay, where our troops landed. And +now I mind me of his telling that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> when they landed at Gabarus, they had +a hard fight with the French and Indians, until Col. Fraser's regiment +of Highlanders jumped overboard, and swam to a point on the rocks, and +drove the enemy away with their broad-swords."</p> + +<p>"That was the 63d Highlanders," said Bruce, with immense gravity.</p> + +<p>"Among the Indians killed at Gabarus," continued our host, "they say +there was one Micmac chief, who was six feet nine inches high. The +French soldiers were very much frightened when the Highland men climbed +up on the rocks; they called them English savages."</p> + +<p>"That showed," said Bruce, "what a dommed ignorant set they were!"</p> + +<p>"And, while I think of it," added our host, rising from his seat, "I +have a bit of the old time to show you," and so saying, he retreated +from the table, and presently brought forth a curious oak box from a +mysterious corner of the hutch, and after some difficulty in drawing out +the sliding cover, produced a roll of tawny newspapers, tied up with +rope yarn, a colored wood engraving in a black frame—a portrait, with +the inscription, "James Wolfe, Esq'r, Commander in Chief of His +Majesty's Forces in the Expedition to Quebec," and on the reverse the +fol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>lowing scrap from the London Chronicle of October 7, 1759:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Amidst her conquests let Britannia groan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Wolfe! her gallant, her undaunted son;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Wolfe, whose breast bright Honor did inspire<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With patriot ardor and heroic fire;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Wolfe, who headed that intrepid band,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who, greatly daring, forced Cape Breton's strand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Wolfe, who following still where glory call'd,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dangers daunted, no distress appall'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose eager zeal disasters could not check,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intent to strike the blow which gained Quebec.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Wolfe, who, like the gallant Theban, dy'd<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In th' arms of victory—his country's pride."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This inscription I read aloud, and then, under the influence of the +loquacious potable, leaned back in my furry throne, crossed my hands +over my forehead, looked steadily into the blazing fire-place, and +continued the theme I had commenced an hour before.</p> + +<p>"What a strange interest attaches itself to the memory of Wolfe! A +youthful hero, who, under less happy auspices, might have been known +only as the competent drill-master of regiments, elevated by the +sagacity of England's wisest statesman to a prominent position of +command; there to exhibit his generalship; there to retrieve the long +list of disasters which followed Braddock's defeat; there to annihilate +forever every vestige of French dominion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> in the Americas; to fulfill +gloriously each point of his mission; to achieve, not by long delays, +but by rapid movements, the conquest of two of the greatest fortresses +in the possession of the rival crown; to pass from the world amid the +shouts of victory—content in the fullness of his fame, without +outliving it! His was a noble, generous nature; brave without cruelty; +ardent and warlike, yet not insensible to the tenderest impulses of +humanity. To die betrothed and beloved, yet wedded only to immortal +honor; to leave a mother, with a nation weeping at her feet; to serve +his country, without having his patriotism contaminated by titles, +crosses, and ribbons; this was the most fortunate fate of England's +greatest commander in the colonies! No wonder, then, that with a +grateful sympathy the laurels of his mother country were woven with the +cypress of her chivalric son; that hundreds of pens were inspired to pay +some tribute to his memory; that every branch of representative art, +from stone to ink, essayed to portray his living likeness; that +parliament and pulpit, with words of eloquence and gratitude, uttered +the universal sentiment!</p> + +<p>"Brave Wolfe," I continued, "whose memory is linked with his no less +youthful rival, Montcalm"——here I was interrupted by the voice of the +mate of the Balaklava<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"I'll be dommed," said he, "if some person isn't afire!"</p> + +<p>Then I unclasped my hands, opened my eyes, and looked around me.</p> + +<p>The scene was a striking one. Right before me, with his grey head on the +table, buried in his piscatorial paws, lay the master of the hutch, fast +asleep. On a settle, one of the fishermen, who had been a devout +listener to all the legends of the grandson of the veteran of +Louisburgh, was in a similar condition; Bruce, our jolly first mate, +with the pertinacity of his race, was wide awake, to be sure, but there +were unmistakable signs of drowsiness in the droop of his eyelids; and +Picton? That gentleman, buried in moose and cariboo skins, prostrate on +a broad bench, drawn up close by the fire-place, was dreaming, probably, +of sculpins, flounders, fish-pugh, and dingledekooch!</p> + +<p>"I say! wake up here!" said the jolly mate of the Balaklava; bringing +his fist down upon the table with an emphatic blow, that roused all the +sleepers except the traveller. "I say, wake up!" reiterated Brace, +shaking Picton by the shoulder. Then Picton raised himself from his +couch, and yawned twice; walked to the table, seated himself on a bench, +thrust his fingers through his black hair, and instantly fell asleep +again, after shaking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> out into the close atmosphere of the hutch a +stifling odor of animal charcoal.</p> + +<p>"A little straw makes a great reek," said Bruce, laughing, "and when a +mon gives out before his pipe, he is like to be burnet," and he pointed +to a long black and brown singe on the worsted comforter of the +traveller, by which we understood that Picton had fallen asleep, pipe in +mouth, and then dropped his lighted <i>dudeen</i> just on the safest part of +his neck.</p> + +<p>Once again we roused the sleeper; and so, shaking hands with our +hospitable host, we left the comfortable hutch at Wolfe's Landing, and +were soon on our way to the jolly little schooner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The other side of the Harbor—A Foraging Party—Disappointment—Twilight +at Louisburgh—Long Days and Early Mornings—A Visit and View of an +Interior—A Shark Story—Picton inquires about a Measure—Hospitality +and the Two Brave Boys—Proposals for a Trip overland to Sydney.</p> + +<p>To make use of a quaint but expressive phrase, "it is patent enough," +that travellers are likely to consume more time in reaching a place than +they are apt to bestow upon it when found. And, I am ashamed to say, +that even Louisburgh was not an exception to this general truth; +although perhaps certain reasons might be offered in extenuation for our +somewhat speedy departure from the precincts of the old town. First, +then, the uncertainty of a sailing vessel, for the "Balaklava" was +coquettishly courting any and every wind that could carry her out of our +harbor of refuge. Next, the desire of seeing more of the surroundings of +the ancient fortress—the batteries on the opposite side, the new town, +the lighthouse, and the wild picturesque coast. Add to these the wish of +our captain to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> shift his anchorage, to get on the side where he would +have a better opening towards the ocean, "when the wind came on to +blow,"—to say nothing of being in the neighborhood of his old friends, +whose cottages dotted the green hill-sides across the bay, as you looked +over the bows of the jolly little schooner. And there might have been +other inducements—such as the hope of getting a few pounds of white +sugar, a pitcher of milk (delicious, lacteous fluid, for which we had +yearned so often amid the briny waves); and last, but not least, a +hamper of blue-nosed potatoes. So, when the shades of the second evening +were gathering grandly and gloomily around the dismantled parapets, and +Louisburgh lay in all the lovely and romantic light of a red and stormy +sunset, it seemed but fitting that the cable-chain of the anchor should +clank to the windlass, and the die-away song of the mariner should +resound above the calm waters, and the canvas stretch towards the land +opposite, that seemed so tempting and delectable. And presently the +"Balaklava" bore away across the red and purple harbor for the new town, +leaving in her wake the ruined walls of Louisburgh that rose up higher +the further we sailed from them.</p> + +<p>The schooner dropped anchor inside the little cove on the opposite side +of the old town, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> the reader will see by referring to the map; and +the old battles of the years '45 and '58 were presently forgotten in the +new aspects that were presented. The anchor was scarcely dropped fairly, +before the yawl-boat was under the stroke of the oars, and Picton and I +<i>en route</i> for the store-house; the general, particular, and only +exchange in the whole district of Louisburgh. It was a small wooden +building with a fair array of tarpaulin hats, oil-skin garments, shelves +of dry-goods and crockery, and boxes and barrels, such as are usually +kept by country traders: on the beach before it were the customary flake +for drying fish, the brown winged boats, and other implements of the +fisheries.</p> + +<p>But alas! the new town, that looked so pastoral and pleasant, with its +tender slopes of verdure, was not, after all, a Canaan, flowing with +milk and blue-nosed potatoes. Neither was there white sugar, nor coffee, +nor good black tea there; the cabin of the schooner being as well +furnished with these articles of comfort as the store-house of McAlpin, +towards which we had looked with such longing eyes. Indeed, I would not +have cared so much about the disappointment myself, but I secretly felt +sorry for Picton, who went rummaging about the barrels in search of +something to eat or to drink. "No white sugar?" said the traveller. "<i>We +don't have white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> sugar in this town</i>," was the answer. "Nor coffee?" +"No, Sir." And the tea had the same flavor of musty hay, with which we +were so well acquainted. At last Picton stumbled over a prize—a +bushel-basket half-filled with potatoes, whereat he raised a bugle-note +of triumph.</p> + +<p>It may seem strange that a gentleman of fine education, a traveller, who +had visited the famous European capitals, London, Paris, Rome, Madrid, +Vienna; who had passed between the Pillars of Hercules, and voyaged upon +the blue Mediterranean, far as the Greek Archipelago; who had wandered +through the galleries of the Vatican, and mused within the courts of the +Alhambra; who had seen the fire-works on the carnival dome of St. +Peter's, and the water-works of Versailles; the temples of Athens, and +the Boboli gardens of Florence; the sculptures of Praxiteles, and the +frescoes of Raphael; should exhibit such emotion as Picton exhibited, +over a bushel-basket only half-filled with small-sized blue-nosed +tubers. But Picton was only a man, and "<i>Homo sum</i>——" the rest of the +sentence it is needless to quote. I saw at a glance that the potatoes +were cut in halves for planting; but Picton was filled with the divine +idea of a feast.</p> + +<p>"I say, we want a peck of potatoes."</p> + +<p>"A peck?" was the answer. "Why, man, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> wouldn't sell ye my +seed-potatoes at a guinea apiece."</p> + +<p>Here was a sudden let-down; a string of the human violin snapped, just +as it was keyed up to tuning point. Slowly and sorrowfully we regained +the yawl after that brief and bitter experience, and a few strokes of +the oars carried us to the side of the "Balaklava."</p> + +<p>It may seem absurd and trifling to dwell upon such slight particulars in +this itinerary of a month among the Blue Noses (as our brothers of Nova +Scotia are called); but to give a correct idea of this rarely-visited +part of the world, one must notice the salient points that present +themselves in the course of the survey. Louisburgh would speedly become +rich from its fisheries, if there were sufficient capital invested there +and properly used. Halifax is now the only point of contact between it +and the outside world; Halifax supplies it with all the necessary +articles of life, and Halifax buys all the produce of its fisheries. +Therefore, Halifax reaps all the profits on either side, both of buying +and selling, in all not amounting to much—as the matter now stands. But +insomuch as the sluggish blood of the colonies will never move without +some quickening impulse from exterior sources, and as Louisburgh is only +ten days' sail, under canvas,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> from New York, and as the fisheries there +would rapidly grow by kindly nurture into importance, it does seem as if +a moderate amount of capital diverted in that direction, would be a +fortunate investment, both for the investor and hardy fishermen of the +old French town.</p> + +<p>I have alluded before to the long Acadian twilights, the tender and +loving leave-takings between the day and his earth; just as two fond and +foolish young people separate sometimes, or as the quaint old poet in +Britannia's Pastorals describes it:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Look as a lover, with a lingering kiss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About to part with the best half that's his:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain would he stay, but that he fears to do it,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And curseth time for so fast hastening to it:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now takes his leave, and yet begins anew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make less vows than are esteemed true:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then says, he must be gone, and then doth find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Something he should have spoke that's out of mind:<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And while he stands to look for't in her eyes,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Their sad, sweet glance so ties his faculties</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To think from what he parts that he is now</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As far from leaving her, or knowing how,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>As when he came</i>; begins his former strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To kiss, to vow, and take his leave again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then turns, comes back, sighs, pants, and yet doth go,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain to retire, and loth to leave her so."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Even so these fond and foolish old institutions part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> company in +northern regions, and, at the early hour of two o'clock in the morning, +the amorous twilight reappears in his foggy mantle, to look at the fair +face of his ancient sweetheart in the month of June.</p> + +<p>Tea being over, the "cluck" of the row-locks woke the echoes of the +twilight bay, as our little yawl put off again for the new town, with a +gay evening party, consisting of the captain, his lady, the baby, Picton +and myself, with a brace of Newfoundland oarsmen. If our galley was not +a stately one, it was at least a cheerful vessel, and as the keel grated +on the snow-white pebbles of the beach, Picton and I sprang ashore, with +all the gallantry of a couple of Sir Walter Raleighs, to assist the +queen of the "Balaklava" upon <i>terra firma</i>. Her majesty being landed, +we made a royal procession to the largest hutch on the green slope +before us, the captain carrying the insignia of his marital office (the +baby) with great pomp and awkward ceremony, in front, while his lady, +Picton and I, loitered in the rear. We had barely crossed the sill of +the hutch-door, before we felt quite at home and welcome. The same +cheery fire in the chimney-place, the spotless floor, the tidy +rush-bottomed chairs, and a whole nest of little white-heads and +twinkling eyes, just on the border of a bright patch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>work quilt, was +invitation enough, even if we had not been met at the threshold by the +master himself, who stretched out his great arms with a kind, +"Come-in-and-how-are-ye-all."</p> + +<p>And what a wonderful evening we passed in that other hutch, before the +blazing hearth-fire! What stories of wrecks and rescues, of icebergs and +whales, of fogs and fisheries, of domestic lobsters that brought up +their little families, in the mouths of the sunken cannon of the French +frigates; of the great sharks that were sometimes caught in the meshes +of the set-nets! "There was one shark," said our host, another old +fisherman, who, by the way, wore a red skull-cap like a cardinal, and +had a habit of bobbing his head as he spoke, so as to put one +continually in mind of a gigantic woodpecker—"there was one shark I +mind particular. My two boys and me was hauling in the net, and soon as +I felt it, says I, 'Boys, here's something more than common.' So we all +hauled away, and O my! didn't the water boil when he come up? Such a +time! Fortnatly, he come up tail first. <span class="smcap">Lord</span>, if he'd a come up head +first he'd a bit the boat in two at one bite! He was all hooked in, and +twisted up with the net. I s'pose he had forty hooks in him; and when he +got his head above water, he was took sick, and such a time as he had! +He must a'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> vomited up about two barrels of bait—true as I set here. +Well, as soon as he got over that, then he tried to get his head around +to bite! <span class="smcap">Lord</span>, if he'd got his head round, he'd a bit the boat in two, +and we had it right full of fish, for we'd been out all day with +hand-lines. He had a nose in front of his gills just like a duck, only +it was nigh upon six feet long."</p> + +<p>"It must have been a shovel-nose shark," said Picton.</p> + +<p>"That's what a captain of a coaster told me," replied Red-Cap; "he said +it must a been a shovel-nose. If he'd only got that shovel-nose turned +around, he'd a shovelled us into eternity, fish and all."</p> + +<p>"What prevented him getting his head around?" said Picton.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir, I took two half-hitches round his tail, soon as I see him +come up. And I tell ye when I make two half-hitches, they hold; ask +captain there, if I can't make hitches as will hold. What say, captain?"</p> + +<p>Captain assented with a confirmatory nod.</p> + +<p>"What did you do then?" said Picton. "Did you get him ashore?"</p> + +<p>"Get him ashore?" muttered Red-Cap, covering his mouth with one broad +brown hand to muffle a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> contemptuous laugh; "get him ashore! why, we was +pretty well off shore for such a sail."</p> + +<p>"You might have rowed him ashore," said Picton.</p> + +<p>"Rowed him ashore?" echoed Red-Cap, with another contemptuous smile +under the brown hand; "rowed him ashore?"</p> + +<p>The traveller, finding he was in deep water, answered: "Yes; that is, if +you were not too far out."</p> + +<p>"A little too far out," replied Red-Cap; "why if I had been a hundred +yards only from shore, it would ha' been too far to row, or sail in, +with that shovel-nose, without counting the set-nets."</p> + +<p>"And what did you do?" said Picton, a little nettled.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Red-Cap, "I had to let him go, but first I cut out his +liver, and that I did bring ashore, although it filled my boat pretty +well full. You can judge how big it was: after I brought it ashore I lay +it out on the beach and we measured it, Mr. McAlpin and me, and he'll +tell you so too; we laid it out on the beach, that ere liver, and it +measured seventeen feet, and then we didn't measure all of it."</p> + +<p>"Why the devil," said Picton, "didn't you measure all of it?"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied Red-Cap, "because we hadn't a measure long enough."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>Meantime the good lady of the hutch was busy arranging some tumblers on +the table, and to our great surprise and delight a huge yellow pitcher +of milk soon made its appearance, and immediately after an old-fashioned +iron bake-pan, with an upper crust of live embers and ashes, was lifted +off the chimney trammel, and when it was opened, the fragrance of hot +ginger-bread filled the apartment. Then Red-Cap bobbed away at a corner +cupboard, until he extracted therefrom a small keg or runlet of St. +Croix rum of most ripe age and choice flavor, some of which, by an +adroit and experienced crook of the elbow, he managed to insinuate into +the milk, which, with a little brown sugar, he stirred up carefully and +deliberately with a large spoon, Picton and I watching the proceedings +with intense interest. Then the punch was poured out and handed around; +while the good wife made little trips from guest to guest with a huge +platter filled with the brown and fragrant pieces of the cake, fresh +from the bake-pan. And so the baby having subsided (our baby of the +"Balaklava"), and the twilight having given place to a grand moonlight +on the bay, and the fire sending out its beams of warmth and happiness, +glittering on the utensils of the dresser, and tenderly touching with +rosy light the cheeks of the small, white-headed fishermen on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +margin of the patchwork quilt; while there was no lack of punch and +hospitality in the yellow pitcher, who shall say that we were not as +well off in the fisherman's hutch as in a grand saloon, surrounded with +frescoes and flunkeys, and served with thin lemonade upon trays of +silver?</p> + +<p>I do not know why it is, but there always has been something very +attractive to me in the faces of children; I love to read the +physiognomy of posterity, and so get a history of the future world in +miniature, before the book itself is fairly printed. And insomuch as +Nova Scotia and Newfoundland are said to be the nurseries of England's +seamen, it was with no little interest that I caught a glimpse of two +boys, one thirteen, the other eleven years old, the eldest children of +our friend Red-Cap.</p> + +<p>They came in just as we entered the hutch, and quietly seated themselves +together by the corner of the fire-place, after modestly shaking hands +with all the guests. They were dressed in plain home-spun clothes, with +something of a sailor rig, especially the neat check shirts, and +old-fashioned, little, low-quartered, round-toed shoes, such as are +always a feature in the melo-drama where Jack plays a part. It is not +usual, too, to see such stocky, robust frames as these fisher-boys +presented; and in all three, in the father and his two sons, was one +general, pervad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>ing idea of cleanliness and housewifery. And then, to +notice the physiognomy again, each small face, though modest as that of +no girl which I could recall at the moment, had its own tale of +hardihood to tell; there was a something that recalled the open sea, +written in either countenance; courage and endurance; faith and +self-reliance; the compass and the rudder; speaking plainly out under +each little thatch of white hair. And indeed, as we found out +afterwards, those young countenances told the truth; those fisher-boys +were Red-Cap's only boat-crew. In all weathers, in all seasons, by night +and by day, the three were together, the parent and his two children, +upon the perilous deep.</p> + +<p>"If I were the father of those boys," I whispered to Red-Cap, "I would +be proud of them."</p> + +<p>"Would ye?" said he, with a proud, fatherly glance towards them; "well, +I thought so once mysel'; it was when a schooner got ashore out there on +the rocks; and we could see her, just under the lights of the +lighthouse, pounding away; and by reason of the ice, nobody would +venture; so my boys said, says they, 'Father, we can go, any way.' So I +wouldn't stop when they said that, and so we laid beside the schooner +and took off all her crew pretty soon, and they mostly dead with the +cold; but it was an awful bad night, what with the dark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>ness and the +ice. Yes," he added, after a pause, "they are good boys now; but they +won't be with me many years."</p> + +<p>"And why not?" I inquired, for I could not see that the young Red-Caps +exhibited any migratory signs of their species to justify the remark.</p> + +<p>"Because all our boys go to the States just as soon as they get old +enough."</p> + +<p>"To the States!" I echoed with no little surprise; "why, I thought they +all entered the British Navy, or something of that kind."</p> + +<p>"Lord bless ye," said Red-Cap, "not one of them. Enter the British Navy! +Why, man, you get the whole of our young people. What would they want to +enter the British Navy for, when they can enter the United States of +America?"</p> + +<p>"The air of Cape Breton is certainly favorable to health," said I, in a +whisper, to Picton; "look, for example, at the mistress of the hutch!" +and so surely as I have a love of womanity, so surely I intended to +convey a sentiment of admiration in the brief words spoken to Picton. +The wife of <i>Bonnet Rouge</i> was at least not young, but her cheek was +smooth, and flushed with the glow of health; her eyes liquid and bright; +her hair brown, and abundant; her step light and elastic. Although +neither Picton, captain, or anybody else in the hutch would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> remind one +of the Angel Raphael, yet Mrs. Red-Cap, as</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">——"With dispatchful looks, in haste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turned, on hospitable thoughts intent,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>was somewhat suggestive of Eve; her movements were grand and simple; +there was a welcome in her face that dimpled in and out with every +current topic; a Miltonic grandeur in her air, whether she walked or +waited. I could not help but admire her, as I do everything else noble +and easily understood. Mrs. Red-Cap was a splendid woman; the wife of a +fisherman, with an unaffected grace beyond the reach of art, and poor +old Louisburgh was something to speak of. Picton expressed his +admiration in stronger and profaner language.</p> + +<p>We were not the only guests at Red-Cap's. The lighthouse keeper, Mr. +Kavanagh, a bachelor and scholar, with his sister, had come down to take +a moonlight walk over the heather; for in new Scotland as in old +Scotland, the bonny heather blooms, although not so much familiarized +there by song and story. But we shall visit lighthouse Point anon, and +spend some hours with the two Kavanaghs. Forthright, into the teeth of +the harbor, the wind is blowing: "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and +thou nearest the sound therof, but canst<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> not tell whence it cometh, and +whither it goeth." How long the "Balaklava" may stay here is yet +uncertain. So, with a good-night to the Red-Caps and their guests, we +once more bear away for the cabin of the schooner and another night's +discomfort.</p> + +<p>As I have said before in other words, this province is nothing more than +a piece of patchwork, intersected with petty boundary lines, so that +every nation is stitched in and quilted in spots, without any harmony, +or coherence, or general design. The people of Louisburgh are a kind, +hospitable, pleasant people, tolerably well informed for the inhabitants +of so isolated a corner of the world; but a few miles further off we +come upon a totally different race: a canting, covenanting, oat-eating, +money-griping, tribe of second-hand Scotch Presbyterians: a +transplanted, degenerate, barren patch of high cheek-bones and red hair, +with nothing cleaving to them of the original stock, except covetousness +and that peculiar cutaneous eruption for which the mother country is +celebrated. But we shall soon have enough of these Scotsmen, good +reader. Our present visit is to Lighthouse Point, to look out upon the +broad Atlantic, the rocky coast, and the island battery, which a century +since gave so much trouble to our filibustering fathers of New England.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +As we walked towards the lighthouse over the pebbly beach that borders +the green turf, Picton suddenly starts off and begins a series of great +jumps on the turf, giving with every grasshopper-leap a sort of +interjectional "Whuh! whuh!" as though the feat was not confined to the +leg-muscles only, but included also a necessary exercise of the lungs. +And although we shouted at the traveller, he kept on towards the +lighthouse, uttering with every jump, "Heather, heather." At last he +came to, beside a group of evergreens, and grew rational. The springy, +elastic sod, the heather of old Scotland, reproduced in new Scotland, +had reminded him of reels and strathspeys, "for," said he, "nobody can +walk upon this sort of thing without feeling a desire to dance upon it. +Thunder and turf! if we only had the pipes now!"</p> + +<p>And sure enough here was the heather; the soft, springy turf, which has +made even Scotchmen affectionate. I do not wonder at it; it answers to +the foot-step like an echo, as the string of an instrument answers its +concord; as love answers love in unison. I do not wonder that Scotchmen +love the heather; I am only surprised that so much heather should be +wasted on Scotchmen.</p> + +<p>We had anticipated a fine marine view from the lighthouse, but in place +of it we could only see a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> sort of semi-luminous vapor, usually called a +fog, which enveloped ocean, island, and picturesque coast. We could not +discover the Island Battery opposite, which had bothered Sir William in +the siege of '45; but nevertheless, we could judge of the difficulty of +reaching it with a hostile force, screened as it was by its waves and +vapors. The lighthouse is striped with black and white bars, like a +zebra, and we entered it. One cannot help but admire such order and +neatness, for the lighthouse is a marvel of purity. We were +everywhere—in the bed-rooms, in the great lantern with its glittering +lamps, in the hall, the parlor, the kitchen; and found in all the same +pervading virtue; as fresh and sweet as a bride was that old +zebra-striped lighthouse. The <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: +Originally Kavanahs. Changed to ensure consistency with other uses">Kavanaghs</ins>, brother and sister, live here +entirely alone; what with books and music, the ocean, the ships, and the +sky, they have company enough. One could not help liking them, they have +such cheerful faces, and are so kind and hospitable. Good bye, good +friends, and peace be with you always! On our route schooner-ward we +danced back over the heather, Picton with great joy carrying a small +basket filled with his national fruit—a present from the <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: +Originally Kavanahs. Changed to ensure consistency with other uses">Kavanaghs</ins>. What +a feast we shall have, fresh fish, lobster, and above all—potatoes!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is a novel sight to see the firs and spruces on this stormy +sea-coast. They grow out, and not up; an old tree spreading over an area +of perhaps twenty feet in diameter, with the inevitable spike of green +in its centre, and that not above a foot and a half from the ground. The +trees in this region are possessed of extraordinary sagacity; they know +how hard the wind blows at times, and therefore put forth their branches +in full squat, just like country girls at a pic-nic.</p> + +<p>On Sunday the wind is still ahead, and Picton and I determine to abandon +the "Balaklava." How long she may yet remain in harbor is a matter of +fate; so, with brave, resolute hearts, we start off for a five-mile +walk, to McGibbet's, the only owner of a horse and wagon in the vicinity +of Louisburgh. Squirrels, robins, and rabbits appear and disappear in +the road as we march forwards. The country is wild, and in its pristine +state; nature everywhere. Now a brook, now a tiny lake, and "the +murmuring pines and the hemlocks." At last we arrive at the house of +McGibbet, and encounter new Scotland in all its original brimstone and +oatmeal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">A Blue-Nosed Pair of the most Cerulean Hue—Prospects of a Hard +Bargain—Case of Necessity—Romantic Lake with an Unromantic Name—The +Discussion concerning Oatmeal—Danger of the Gasterophili—McGibbet +makes a Proposition—Farewell to the "Balaklava"—A Midnight +Journey—Sydney—Boat Excursion to the Mic Macs—Picton takes off his +Mackintosh.</p> + +<p>Some learned philosopher has asserted that when a person has become +accustomed to one peculiar kind of diet, it will be expressed in the +lineaments of his face. How much the constant use of oatmeal could +produce such an effect, was plainly visible in the countenances of +McGibbet and his lady-love. Both had an unmistakable equine cast; +McGibbet, wild, scraggy, and scrubby, with a tuft on his poll that would +not have been out of place between the ears of a plough-horse, stared at +us, just as such an animal would naturally over the top of a fence; +while his gentle mate, who had more of the amiable draught-horse in her +aspect, winked at us with both eyes from under a close-crimped frill, +that bore a marvellous resemblance to a head-stall. The pair had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +evidently just returned from kirk. To say nothing of McGibbet's hat, and +his wife's shawl, on a chair, and his best boots on the hearth (for he +was walking about in his stockings), there was a dry <i>preceese</i> air +about them, which plainly betokened they were newly stiffened up with +the moral starch of the conventicle, and were therefore well prepared to +drive a hard bargain for a horse and wagon to Sydney. But what surprised +me most of all was the imperturbable coolness of Picton. Without taking +a look scarcely at the persons he was addressing, the traveller stalked +in with an—"I say, we want a horse and wagon to Sydney; so look sharp, +will you, and turn out the best thing you have here?"</p> + +<p>The moral starch of the conventicle stiffened up instantly. Like the +blacksmith of Cairnvreckan, who, as a <i>professor</i>, would drive a nail +for no man on the Sabbath or kirk-fast, unless in a case of absolute +necessity, and then always charged an extra saxpence for each shoe; so +it was plain to be seen that McGibbet had a conscience which required to +be pricked both with that which knows no law, and the saxpence extra. He +turned to his wife and addressed her in <i>Gaelic</i>! Then we knew what was +coming.</p> + +<p>Mrs. McGibbet opened the subject by saying that they were both +accustomed to the observance of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> Sabbath, and that "she didn't think +it was right for man to transgress, when the law was so plain"——</p> + +<p>Here McGibbet broke in and said that—"He was free to confess he had +commeeted a grreat menny theengs kwhich were a grreat deal worse than +Sabbath-breaking."</p> + +<p>Upon which Mrs. McG. interrupted him in turn with a few words, which, +although in Gaelic, a language we did not understand, conveyed the +impression that she was not addressing her liege lord in the language of +endearment, and again continued in English: "That it was held sinful in +the community to wark or do anything o' the sort, or to fetch or carry +even a sma bundle"——</p> + +<p>"For kwich," said McGibbet, "is a fine to be paid to the meenister, of +five shillins currency"——</p> + +<p>Here Picton stopped whistling a bar of "Bonny Doon," and observed to me: +"About a dollar of your money. We'll pay the fine."</p> + +<p>"Yes," chimed in McGibbet, "a dollar"——and was again stopped by his +wife, who raised her eyebrows to the borders of her kirk-frill and +brought them down vehemently over her blue eyes at him.</p> + +<p>"Or to travel the road," she said, "even on foot, to say nothing of a +wagon and horse."</p> + +<p>"But," interrupted Picton, "my dear madam, we must get on, I tell you; I +must be in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> Sydney to-morrow, to catch the steamer for St. John's."</p> + +<p>At this observation of the traveller the pair fell back upon their +Gaelic for a while, and in the meantime Picton whispered me: "I see; +they want to raise the price on us: but we won't give in; they'll be +sharp enough after the job by and by."</p> + +<p>The pair turned towards us and both shook their heads. It was plain to +be seen the conference had not ended in our favor.</p> + +<p>"Ye see," said the gude-wife, "we are accustomed to the observance of +the Sabbath, and would na like to break it, except"—</p> + +<p>"In a case of necessity; you are perfectly right," chimed in Picton; "I +agree with you myself. Now this is a case of necessity; here we are; we +must get on, you see; if we don't get on we miss the steamer to-morrow +for St. John's—she only runs once a fortnight there—it's plain enough +a clear case of necessity; it's like," continued Picton, evidently +trying to corner some authority in his mind, "it's like—let me +see—it's like—a—pulling—a sheep out of a ditch—a—which they always +do on the Sabbath, you know, to a—get us on to Sydney."</p> + +<p>Both McGibbet and his wife smiled at Picton's ingenuity, but straightway +put on the equine look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> again. "It might be so; but it was clean +contrary to their preenciples."</p> + +<p>"I'll be hanged," whispered Picton, "if I offer more than the usual +price, which I heard at Louisburgh was one pound ten, to Sydney, and the +fine extra. I see what they are after."</p> + +<p>There was an awkward pause in the negotiations. McGibbet scratched his +poll, and looked wistfully at his wife, but the kirk-frill was stiffened +up with the moral starch, as aforesaid.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Picton looked out of the window. "By Jove!" said he, "I think +the wind is changed! After all, we may get around in the 'Balaklava.'"</p> + +<p>McGibbet looked somewhat anxiously out of the window also, and grunted +out a little more Gaelic to his love. The kirk-frill relented a trifle.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the gentlemen wad like a glass of milk after thae long walk? +and Robert" (which she pronounced Robbut), "a bit o' the corn-cake."</p> + +<p>Upon which Robbut, with great alacrity, turned towards the bed-room, +from whence he brought forth a great white disk, that resembled the head +of a flour-barrel, but which proved to be a full-grown griddle cake of +corn-meal. This, with the pure milk, from the cleanest of scoured pans, +was acceptable enough after the long walk.</p> + +<p>We had observed some beautiful streams, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> blue glimpses of lakes on +the road to McGibbet's, and just beyond his house was a larger lake, +several miles in extent, with picturesque hills on either side, +indented-with coves, and studded with islands, sometimes stretching away +to distant slopes of green turf, and sometimes reflecting masses of +precipitous rock, crowned with the spiry tops of spruces and firs. +Indeed, all the country around, both meadow and upland, was very +pleasing to the sight. A low range of hills skirted the northern part of +what seemed to be a spacious, natural amphitheatre, while on the south +side a diversity of highlands and water added to the whole the charm of +variety.</p> + +<p>"You have a fine country about you, Mr. McGibbet," said I.</p> + +<p>"Ay," he replied.</p> + +<p>"And what is it called here?"</p> + +<p>"We ca' it Get-Along!" said Robbut, with an intensely Scotch accent on +the "Get."</p> + +<p>"And yonder beautiful lake—what is the name of that?" said I, in hopes +of taking refuge behind something more euphonious.</p> + +<p>"Oh! ay," replied he, "that's just Get-Along, too. We doan't usually +speak of it, but whan we do, we just ca' it Get-Along Lake, and it's not +good for much."</p> + +<p>I thought it best to change the subject. "Do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> you like this as well as +the oat-cake?" said I, with my mouth full of the dry, husky provender.</p> + +<p>"Nae," said McGibbet, with an equine shake of the head, "it's not sae +fellin."</p> + +<p>Not so filling! Think of that, ye pampered minions of luxury, who live +only upon delicate viands; who prize food, not as it useful, but as it +is tasteful; who can even encourage a depraved, sensual appetite so far +as to appreciate flavor; who enjoy meats, fish, and poultry, only as +they minister to your palates; who flirt with spring-chickens and trifle +with sweet-breads in wanton indolence, without a thought of your cubic +capacity; without a reflection that you can live just as well upon so +many square inches of oatmeal a day as you can upon the most elaborate +French kickshaws; nay, that you can be elevated to the level of a +scientific problem, and work out your fillings, with nothing to guide +you but a slate and pencil!</p> + +<p>"Then you like oatmeal better than this?" said Picton, soothing down a +husky lump, with a cup of milk.</p> + +<p>"Ay," responded McGibbet.</p> + +<p>"And you always eat it, whenever you can get it, I suppose?" continued +Picton, with a most innocent air.</p> + +<p>"Ay," responded McGibbet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should think some of you Scotchmen would be afraid of contracting a +disease that is engendered in the system by the use of this sort of +grain. I hope, Mr. McGibbet," said Picton, with imperturbable coolness, +"you keep clear of the bots, and that sort of thing, you know?"</p> + +<p>"Kwat?" said Robbut, with the most startled, horse-like look he had yet +put on.</p> + +<p>"The gasterophili," replied Picton, "which I would advise you to steer +clear of, if you want to live long."</p> + +<p>As this was a word with too many gable-ends for Robbut's comprehension, +he only responded by giving such a smile as a man might be expected to +give who had his mouth full of aloes, and as the conversation was +wandering off from the main point, addressed himself to Mrs. McG. in the +vernacular again.</p> + +<p>"We would like to obleege ye," said the lady, "if it was not for the +transgression; and we do na like to break the Sabbath for ony man."</p> + +<p>"Although," interposed Robbut, "I am free to confess that I have done a +great many things worse than breakin' the Sabbath."</p> + +<p>"But if to-morrow would do as well," resumed his wife, "Robbut would +take ye to Sydney."</p> + +<p>To this Picton shook his head. "Too late for the steamer."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Or to-night; I wad na mind that," said the pious Robbut, "<i>if it was +after dark</i>, and that will bring ye to Sydney before the morn."</p> + +<p>"That will do," said Picton, slapping his thigh. "Lend us your horse and +wagon to go down to the schooner and get our luggage; we will be back +this evening, and then go on to Sydney, eh? That will do; a ride by +moonlight;" and the traveller jumped up from his seat, walked with great +strides towards the fire-place, turned his back to the blaze, hung a +coat-tail over each arm, and whistled "Annie Laurie" at Mrs. McGibbet.</p> + +<p>The suggestion of Picton meeting the views of all concerned, the +diplomacy ended. Robbut put himself in his Sunday boots, and hitched up +a spare rib of a horse before a box-wagon without springs, which he +brought before the door with great complacency. The traveller and I were +soon on the ground-floor of the vehicle, seated upon a log of wood by +way of cushion; and with a chirrup from McGibbet, off we went. At the +foot of the first hill, our horse stopped; in vain Picton jerked at the +rein, and shouted at him: not a step further would he go, until Robbut +himself came down to the rescue. "Get along, Boab!" said his master; and +Bob, with a mute, pitiful appeal in his countenance, turned his face +towards salt-water. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> foot of the next hill he stopped again, when +the irascible Picton jumped out, and with one powerful twitch of the +bridle, gave Boab such a hint to "get on," that it nearly jerked his +head off. And Boab did get on, only to stop at the ascent of the next +hill. Then we began to understand the tactics of the animal. Boab had +been the only conveyance between Louisburgh and Sydney for many years, +and, as he was usually over-burdened, made a point to stop at the up +side of every hill on the road, to let part of his freight get out and +walk to the top of the acclivity with him. So, by way of compromise, we +made a feint of getting out at every rise of ground, and Boab, who +always turned his head around at each stopping-place, seemed to be +satisfied with the observance of the ceremony, and trotted gaily +forward. At last we came to a place we had named Sebastopol in the +morning—a great sharp edge of rock as high as a man's waist, that cut +the road in half, over which we lifted the wagon, and were soon in view +of the bright little harbor and the "Balaklava" at anchor. Mr. McAlpin +kindly gave quarters to our steed in his out-house, and offered to raise +a signal for the schooner to send a boat ashore. As he was Deputy United +States Consul, and as I was tired of the red-cross of St. George, I +asked him to hoist his consular flag. Up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> to the flag-staff truck rose +the roll of white and red worsted, then uncoiled, blew out, and the +blessed stars and stripes were waving over me. It is surprising to think +how transported one can be sometimes with a little bit of bunting!</p> + +<p>And now the labor of packing commenced, of which Picton had the greatest +share by far; the little cabin of the schooner was pretty well spread +out with his traps on every side; and this being ended, Picton got out +his travelling-organ and blazed away in a <i>finale</i> of great tunes and +small, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, as the humor took him. After all, +we parted from the jolly little craft with regret: our trunks were +lowered over the side; we shook hands with all on board; and were rowed +in silence to the land.</p> + +<p>I have had some experience in travelling, and have learned to bear with +ordinary firmness and philosophy the incidental discomforts one is +certain to meet with on the road; but I must say, the discipline already +acquired had not prepared me for the unexpected appearance of our wagon +after Picton's luggage was placed in it. First, two solid English trunks +of sole-leather filled the bottom of the vehicle; then the traveller's +Minié-rifle, life-preserver, strapped-up blankets, and hand-bag were +stuffed in the sides: over these again were piled my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> trunk and the +traveller's valise (itself a monster of straps and sole-leather); then +again his portable-secretary and the hand-organ in a box. These made +such a pyramid of luggage, that riding ourselves was out of the +question. What with the trunks and the cordage to keep them staid, our +wagon looked like a ship of the desert. To crown all, it began to rain +steadily. "Now, then," said Picton, climbing up on his confounded +travelling equipage, "let's get on." With some difficulty I made a +half-seat on the corner of my own trunk; Picton shouted out at Boab; the +Newfoundland sailors who had brought us ashore, put their shoulders to +the wheels, and away we went, waving our hats in answer to the hearty +cheers of the sailors. It was down hill from McAlpin's to the first +bridge, and so far we had nothing to care for, except to keep a look-out +we were not shaken off our high perch. But at the foot of the first hill +Boab stopped! In vain Picton shouted at him to get on; in vain he shook +rein and made a feint of getting down from the wagon. Boab was not +intractable, but he was sagacious; he had been fed on that sort of chaff +too long. Picton and I were obliged to humor his prejudices, and +dismount in the mud, and after one or two feeble attempts at a ride, +gave it up, walked down hill and up, lifted the wagon by inches over +Sebastopol, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> finally arrived at McGibbet's, wet, tired, and hungry. +That Sabbath-broker received us with a grim smile of satisfaction, put +on the half-extinguished fire the smallest bit of wood he could find in +the pile beside the hearth, and then went away with Boab to the stable. +"Gloomy prospects ahead, Picton!" The traveller said never a word.</p> + +<p>Now I wish to record here this, that there is no place, no habitation of +man, however humble, that cannot be lighted up with a smile of welcome, +and the good right-hand of hospitality, and made cheerful as a palace +hung with the lamps of Aladdin!</p> + +<p>McGibbet, after leading his beast to the stable, returned, and warming +his wet hands at the fire, grunted out; "It rains the nigcht."</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Picton, hastily, "rains like blue blazes: I say, get us +a drop of whisky, will you?"</p> + +<p>To this the equine replied by folding his hands one over the other with +a saintly look. "I never keep thae thing in the hoose."</p> + +<p>"Picton," said I, "if we could only unlash our luggage, I have a bottle +of capital old brandy in my trunk, but it's too much trouble."</p> + +<p>"Oh! na," quoth Robbut with a most accommodating look, "it will be nae +trooble to get to it."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Picton, "look sharp, will you?" and our host, with +great swiftness, moved off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> to the wagon, and very soon returned with +the trunk on his shoulder, according to directions.</p> + +<p>"But," said I, taking out the bottle of precious fluid, "here it is, +corked up tight, and what is to be done for a cork-screw?"</p> + +<p>"I've got one," said the saint.</p> + +<p>"I thought it was likely," quoth Picton, drily; "look sharp, will you?"</p> + +<p>And Robbut did look sharp, and produced the identical instrument before +Picton and I had exchanged smiles. Then Robbut spread out three green +tumblers on the table, and following Picton's lead, poured out a stout +half-glass, at which I shouted out, "Hold up!" for I thought he was +filling the tumbler for my benefit. It proved to be a mistake; Robbut +stopped for a moment, but instantly recovering himself, covered the +tumbler with his four fingers, and, to use a Western phrase, "got +outside of the contents quicker than lightning." Then he brought from +his bed-room a coarse sort of worsted horse-blanket, and with a "Ye'll +may-be like to sleep an hour or twa?" threw down his family-quilt and +retired to the arms of Mrs. McG. Picton gave a great crunching blow with +his boot-heel at the back-stick, and laid on a good supply of fuel. We +were wet through and through, but we wrapped ourselves in our +travel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>ling-blankets like a brace of clansmen in their plaids, put our +feet towards the niggardly blaze, and were soon bound and clasped with +sleep.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock our host roused us from our hard bed, and after a +stretch, to get the stiffness out of joints and muscles, we took leave +of the Presbyterian quarters. The day was just dawning: at this early +hour, lake and hill-side, tree and thicket, were barely visible in the +grey twilight. The wagon, with its pyramid of luggage, moved off in the +rain, McGibbet walking beside Boab, and Picton and I following after, +with all the gravity of chief mourners at a funeral. To give some idea +of the road we were upon, let it be understood, it had once been an old +<i>French</i> military road, which, after the destruction of the fortress of +Louisburgh, had been abandoned to the British Government and the +elements. As a consequence, it was embroidered with the ruts and gullies +of a century, the washing of rains, and the tracks of wagons; howbeit, +the only traverse upon it in later years were the wagon of McGibbet and +the saddle-horse of the post-rider. "Get-Along" had a population of +seven hundred Scotch Presbyters, and therefore it will be easy to +understand the condition of its turnpike.</p> + +<p>Up hill and down hill, through slough and over rock, we trudged, for +mile after mile. Sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> beside Get-Along Lake, with its grey, +spectral islands and woodlands; sometimes by rushing brooks and dreary +farm-fields; now in paths close set with evergreens; now in more open +grounds, skirted with hills and dotted with silent, two-penny cottages. +Sometimes Picton mounted his pyramid of trunk-leather for a mile or so +of nods; sometimes I essayed the high perch, and holding on by a cord, +dropped off in a moment's forgetfulness, with the constant fear of +waking up in a mud-hole, or under the wagon-wheels. But even these +respites were brief. It is not easy to ride up hill and down by rock and +rut, under such conditions. We were very soon convinced it was best to +leave the wagon to its load of sole-leather, and walk through the mud to +Sydney.</p> + +<p>After mouldy Halifax, and war-worn Louisburgh, the little town of Sydney +is a pleasant rural picture. Everybody has heard of the Sydney +coal-mines: we expected to find the miner's finger-marks everywhere; but +instead of the smoky, sulphurous atmosphere, and the black road, and the +sulky, grimy, brick tenements, we were surprised with clean, white, +picket-fences; and green lawns, and clever, little cottages, nestled in +shrubbery and clover. The mines are over the bay, five miles from South +Sydney. Slowly we dragged on, until we came to a sleepy little one-story +inn, with superna<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>tural dormer windows rising out of the roof, before +which Boab stopped. We <i>paid</i> McGibbet's kirk-fine, wagon-fare, and his +unconscionable charge for his conscience, without parleying with him; we +were too sleepy to indulge in the luxury of a monetary skirmish. A +pretty, red-cheeked chambermaid, with lovely drooping eyes, showed us to +our rooms; it was yet very early in the morning; we were almost ashamed +to get into bed with such dazzling white sheets after the dark-brown +accommodations of the "Balaklava;" but we did get in, and slept; oh! how +sweetly! until breakfast at one!</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four miles of such foot-travel will do pretty well for an +invalid, eh, Picton?"</p> + +<p>"All serene?" quoth the traveller, interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"Feel as well as ever I did in my life," said I, with great +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Then let's have a bath," and, at Picton's summons, the chambermaid +brought up in our rooms two little tubs of fair water, and a small pile +of fat, white napkins. The bathing over, and the outer men new clad, +"from top to toe," down we went to the cosy parlor to breakfast; and +such a breakfast!</p> + +<p>I tell you, my kind and gentle friend; <i>you</i>, who are now reading this +paragraph, that here, as in all other parts of the world, there are a +great many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> kinds of people; only that here, in Nova Scotia, the +difference is in spots, not in individuals. And I will venture to say to +those philanthropists who are eternally preaching "of the masses," and +"to the masses," that here "masses" can be found—concrete "masses," not +yet individualized: as ready to jump after a leader as a flock of sheep +after a bell-wether; only that at every interval of five or ten miles +between place and place in Nova Scotia, they are apt to jump in contrary +directions. There are Scotch Nova Scotiaites even in Sydney. Otherwise +the place is marvellously pleasant.</p> + +<p>I must confess that I had a romantic sort of idea in visiting Sydney; a +desire to return by way of the <i>Bras d'Or</i> lake, the "arm of gold," the +inland sea of Cape Breton, that makes the island itself only a border +for the water in its interior. And as the navigation is frequently +performed by the Micmac Indians, in their birch-bark canoes, I +determined to be a <i>voyageur</i> for the nonce, and engage a couple of +Micmacs to paddle me homewards, at least one day's journey. The wigwams +of the tribe were pitched about a mile from the town, and I proposed a +visit to their camp as an afternoon's amusement. Picton readily +assented, and down we went to the wharf, where the landlady assured us +we would find some of the tribe. These Indians, often expert<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> coopers, +are employed to barrel up fish; the busy wharf was covered with +laborers, hard at work, heading and hooping ship loads of salt mackerel; +and among the workmen were some with the unmistakable lozenge eyes, high +cheek-bones, and rhubarb complexion of the native American. Upon +inquiry, we were introduced to one of the Rhubarbarians. He was a little +fellow, not in leggings and quill-embroidered hunting-shirt, with belt +of wampum and buckskin moccasins; armed with bow and arrow, tomahawk and +scalping-knife; such as one would expect to navigate a wild, romantic +lake with, in birch-bark canoe; but a pinched-up specimen of a man, in a +seedy black suit, out of which rose a broad, flat face, like the orb of +a sun-flower, bearing one side the aboriginal black eye, and on the +other the civilized, surrounded with the blue and purple halo of battle. +We had barely opened our business with the Indian, when a bonny +Scotchman, a fellow-cooper of salt mackerel, introduced himself:</p> + +<p>"Oh, ye visit the Micmacs the day?"</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"De'il a canoe has he to tak ye there" (the Indian slunk away), "but +I'll tak ye tull 'em for one and saxpence, in a gude boat."</p> + +<p>The fellow had such an honest face, and the offer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> was so fair and +earnest, that Picton's and my own trifling prejudices were soon +overcome, and we directed Malcolm, for that was his name, to bring his +boat under the inn-windows after the dinner-hour. I regret to say that +we found Malcolm tolerably drunk after dinner, with a leaky boat, under +the inn-windows. And farther, I am pained to state the national +characteristic was developed in Malcolm drunk, from which there was no +appeal to Malcolm sober, for he insisted upon double fare, and time was +pressing. To this we assented, after a brief review of former +prejudices. We got in the boat and put off. We had barely floated away +into the beautiful landscape when a fog swept over us, and Malcolm's +nationality again woke up. He would have four times as much as he had +charged in the first instance, or "he'd tak us over, and land us on the +ither side of the bay."</p> + +<p>Then Picton's nationality woke up, and he unbuttoned his mackintosh. +"Now, sir," said he to Malcolm, as he rose from his seat in the boat, +his head gracefully inclined towards his starboard shirt-collar, and his +two tolerably large fists arrayed in order of battle within a few brief +inches of the delinquent's features, "did I understand you to say that +you had some idea of taking this gentleman and myself <i>to the other side +of the bay</i>?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a boy in our boat—a fair-haired, blue-eyed representative of +Nova Scotia; a sea-boy, with a dash of salt-water in his ruddy cheeks, +who had modestly refrained from taking part in the dispute.</p> + +<p>"Come, now," said he to Malcolm, "pull away, and let us get the +gentlemen up to the camp," and he knit his boy brow with determination, +as if he meant to have it settled according to contract.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Picton, nodding at the boy, "and if he don't"——</p> + +<p>"I'm pullin' an't I?" quoth the descendant of King Duncan, a little +frightened, and suiting the action to the word; "I'm a-pewlin," and here +his oar missed the water, and over he tumbled with a great splash in the +bottom of the boat. "I'm a-pewlin," he whined, as he regained his seat +and the oar, "and all I want is to hae my honest airnins."</p> + +<p>"Then pull away," said Picton, as he resumed his seat in the +stern-sheets.</p> + +<p>"Ay," quoth the Scotchman, "I know the Micmacs weel, and thae squaws +too; deil a one o' 'em but knows Malcolm"——</p> + +<p>"Pull away," said the boy.</p> + +<p>"They are guid-lookin', thae squaws, and I'm a bachelter; and I tell ye +when I tak ye tull em<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>—for I know the hail o' em—if ye are gentlemen, +ye'll pay me my honest airnins."</p> + +<p>"And I tell you," answered Picton, his fist clenched, his eye flashing +again, and his indignant nostrils expressing a degree of anger language +could not express; "I tell you, if you do not carry us to the Micmac +camp without further words, I'll pay you your honest earnings before you +get there: I'll punch that Scotch head of yours till it looks like a +photograph!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Micmac Camp—Indian Church-warden and Broker—Interior of a +Wigwam—A Madonna—A Digression—Malcolm discharged—An Indian +Bargain—The Inn Parlor, and a Comfortable Night's Rest.</p> + +<p>The threat had its effect: in a few minutes our boat ran bows-on up the +clear pebbled beach before the Micmac camp.</p> + +<p>It was a little cluster of birch-bark wigwams, pitched upon a carpet of +greensward, just at the edge of one of the loveliest harbors in the +world. The fog rolled away like the whiff of vapor from a pipe, and +melted out of sight. Before us were the blue and violet waters, tinged +with the hues of sunset, the rounded, swelling, curving shores opposite, +dotted with cottages; the long, sweeping, creamy beaches, the distant +shipping, and, beyond, the great waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. +Nearer at hand were "the murmuring pines and the hemlocks," the tender +green light seen in vistas of firs and spruces, the thin smoke curling +up from the wigwams, the birch-bark canoes, the black, bright<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> eyes of +the children, the sallow faces of the men, and the pretty squaws, +arrayed in blue broad-cloth frocks and leggings, and modesty, and +moccasins.</p> + +<p>"Now, here we are," said Malcolm, triumphantly, "and wha d'ye thenk o' +the Micmacs? Deil a wan o' the yellow deevils but knows Malcolm, an I'll +introjewce ye to the hail o' em."</p> + +<p>"Stop, sir," said Picton, sternly, "we want none of your company. You +can take your boat back," (here I nodded affirmatively), "and we'll walk +home."</p> + +<p>It was quite a picture, that of our oarsman, upon this summons to +depart. He had just laid his hand upon the shoulder of a fat, +good-natured looking squaw, to commence the introjewcing; one foot +rested on the bottom of an overturned canoe, in an attitude of command; +his old battered tarpaulin hat, his Guernsey shirt, and salt-mackerel +trowsers, finely relieved against the violet-tinted water; but oh! how +chop-fallen were those rugged features under that old tarpaulin!</p> + +<p>The scene had its effect; I am sure Picton and myself would gladly have +paid the quadruple sum on the spot—after all, it was but a trifle—for +we both drew forth a sovereign at the same moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Unfortunately Malcolm had no change; not a "bawbee." "Then," said we, +"go back to the inn, and we'll pay you on our return."</p> + +<p>"And," said Malcolm, in an unearthly whine that might have been heard +all over the camp, "d' ye get me here to take advantage o' me, and no +pay me my honest airnins?"</p> + +<p>"What the devil to do with this fellow, short, of giving him a drubbing, +I do not know," said Picton. "Here, you, give us change for a sovereign, +or take yourself off and wait at the hotel till we get back again."</p> + +<p>"I canna change a sovereign, I tell ye"——</p> + +<p>"Then be off with you, and wait."</p> + +<p>"Wad ye send me away without my honest airnins?" he uttered, with a +whine like the bleat of a bagpipe.</p> + +<p>Picton drew a little closer to Malcolm, with one fist carefully doubled +up and put in ambush behind his back. But the boy interposed—"Perhaps +the Micmac chief could change the sovereign."</p> + +<p>"Oh! ay," quoth Malcolm, who had given an uneasy look at Picton as he +stepped towards him; "Oh! ay; I'se tak ye tull 'im;" and without further +ado he stepped off briskly towards the centre of the camp, and we +followed in his wake. When our file-leader reached the wigwam of the +chief, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> went down on hands and knees, lifted up a little curtain or +blanket in front of the low door of the tent, crawled in head first, and +we followed close upon his heels.</p> + +<p>As soon as the eye became accustomed to the dim and uncertain light of +the interior, we began to examine the curious and simple architecture of +this human bee-hive. A circle of poles, say about ten feet in diameter +at the base, and tied together to an apex at the top, covered with the +thin bark of the birch-tree, except a space above to let out the smoke, +was all the protection these people had against the elements in summer +or winter. The floor, of course, was the primitive soil of Cape Breton; +in the centre of the tent a few sticks were smouldering away over a +little pile of ashes: the thin smoke lifted itself up in folds of blue +vapor until it stole forth into the evening air from the opening in the +roof. Through this aperture the light—the only light of the tent—fell +down upon the group below: the old chief with his great silver cross, +and medal, and snow-white hair; the young and beautiful squaw with her +pappoose at the breast, like a Madonna by Murillo; Malcolm's battered +tarpaulin and Guernsey shirt; and the two unpicturesque objects of the +party—Picton and myself. Around the central fire a broad,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> green border +of fragrant hemlock twigs, extending to the skirts of the tent, was +raised a few inches from the ground. Upon this couch we sat, and opened +our business with the aged sagamore.</p> + +<p>Old Indian was very courteous; he drew forth a bag of clinking dollars, +for strange as it may seem, he was a churchwarden: the Micmacs being all +Catholics, the chief holds the silver keys of St. Peter. But venerable +and pious as he appeared, with his silver cross and silver hair, the old +fellow was something too of a broker! He demanded a fair rate of +commission—eight per cent. premium on every dollar! Even this would not +answer our purpose; it was as difficult to make change with the old +churchwarden as with Malcolm: there was no money in the camp except hard +silver dollars.</p> + +<p>No change for a sovereign!</p> + +<p>So we went forth from the wigwam again on all fours, and it was only by +another promise of a sound drubbing that Malcolm was finally persuaded +to drop off and leave us.</p> + +<p>Aboriginal certainly is the camp of the Micmacs. The birch-bark wigwams; +the canoes that lined the beach; the paddles, the utensils; the bows and +arrows; the parti-colored baskets, are independent of, are earlier than +our arts and manufactures. So far as these people are concerned, the +colonial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> government has been mild and considerate. Although there are +game-laws in the Province, yet Micmac has a privilege no white man can +possess. At all seasons he may hunt or fish; he may stick his <i>aishkun</i> +in the salmon as it runneth up the rivers to spawn, and shoot the +partridge on its nest, if he please, without fine and imprisonment. Some +may think it better to preserve the game than to preserve the Indian; +but some think otherwise. For my part, when the question is between the +man and the salmon, I am content to forego fish.</p> + +<p>As we walked through the Micmac camp we met our semi-civilized friend +with the lozenge eyes, and I made a contract with him for a brief voyage +on le Bras d'Or. But alas! Indian will sometimes take a lesson from his +white comrades! Micmac's charge at first was one pound for a trip of +twenty-four miles on the "Arm of Gold;" cheap enough. But before we left +the camp it was two pounds. That I agreed to pay. Then there was a +portage of three miles, over which the canoe had to be carried. "Well?" +"And it would take two men to paddle." "Well?" "And then the canoe had +to be paddled back." "Well?" "And then carried over the portage again." +"Well?" "And so it would be four pounds!" Here the negotiations were +broken off; how much more it would cost I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> did not ascertain. The rate +of progression was too rapid for further inquiry.</p> + +<p>So we walked home again amid the fragrant resinous trees, until we +gained the high road, and so by pretty cottages, and lawns, and picket +fences; sometimes meeting groups of wandering damsels with their young +and happy lovers; sometimes twos and threes of horse-women, in habits, +hats, and feathers; now catching a glimpse of the broad, blue harbor; +now looking down a green lane, bordered with turf and copse; until we +reached our comfortable quarters at Mrs. Hearn's, where the pretty +chambermaid, with drooping eyes, welcomed us in a voice whose music was +sweeter than the tea-bell she held in her hand. And here, too, we found +Malcolm, waiting for his pay, partially sober and quiet as a lamb.</p> + +<p>I trust the reader will not find fault with the writer for dwelling upon +these minute particulars. In this itinerary of the trip to the Acadian +land, I have endeavored to portray, as faithfully as may be, the salient +features of the country, and particularly those contrasts visible in the +settlements; the jealous preservation of those dear, old, splendid +prejudices, that separate tribe from tribe, clan from clan, sect from +sect, race from race. I wish the reader to see and know the country as +it is, not for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> the purpose of arousing his prejudices against a +neighboring people, but rather with the intent of showing to what result +these prejudices tend, in order that he may correct his own. A mere +aggregation of tribes is not a great people. Take the human species in a +state of sectionalism, and it does not make much difference whether it +is in the shape of the Indian, proud of the blue and red stripes on his +face, or the Scotchman, proud of the blue and red stripes on his plaid, +the inferiority of the human animal, with his tribal sheep-mark on him, +is evident enough to any person of enlarged understanding. Therefore I +have been minute and faithful in describing the species McGibbet and +Malcolm, and in contrasting them with the hardy fisherman of Louisburgh, +the Micmacs of Sydney, the negroes of Deer's Castle, the Acadians of +Chizzetcook, and as we shall see anon with other sectional specimens, +just as they present their kaleidoscopic hues in the local settlements +of this colony.</p> + +<p>It is just a year since I was seated in that cosy inn-parlor at Sydney, +and how strangely it all comes back again: the little window overlooking +the harbor, the lights on the twinkling waters; the old-fashioned +house-clock in the corner of the room; the bright brass andirons; the +cut paper chimney-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>apron; the old sofa; the cheerful lamp, and the +well-polished table. And I remember, too, the happy, tranquil feeling of +lying in the snow-white sheets at night, and talking with Picton of our +overland journey from Louisburgh; of McGibbet and Malcolm; and then we +branched out on the great subject of Indian rights, and Indian wrongs; +of squaws and pappooses; of wigwams and canoes, until at last I dropped +off in a doze, and heard only a repetition of +Micmac—Micmac—Micmac—Mic—Mac——Mic———Mac! To this day I am +unable to say whether the sound I heard came from Picton, or the great +house-clock in the corner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Over the Bay—A Gigantic Dumb Waiter—Erebus—Reflections—White and +Black Squares of the Chess-board—Leave-taking—An Interruption—The +Aibstract Preencipels of Feenance.</p> + +<p>Bright and early next morning we arose for an expedition across the bay +to North Sydney and the coal-mines. A fresh breakfast in a sunny room, a +brisk walk to the breezy, grass-grown parapet, that defends the harbor; +a thought of the first expedition to lay down the telegraph line between +the old and new hemispheres, for here lie the coils of the sub-marine +cable, as they were left after the stormy essay of the steamer "James +Adger," a year before—what a theme for a poet!</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some spark, now dormant, of electric fire:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">News, that the board of brokers might have swayed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or broke the banks that trembled with the wire."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>—and we take an airy seat on the poop-deck of the little English +steamer, and are wafted across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> harbor, five miles, to a small +sea-port, where coal-schutes and railways run out over the wharfs, and +coasters, both fore-and-aft, and square-rigged, are gathered in +profusion. A glass of English ale at a right salt-sea tavern, a bay +horse, and two-wheeled "jumper" for the road, and away we roll towards +the mines. Now up hill and down; now passing another Micmac camp on the +green margin of the beach; now by trim gardens without flowers; now +getting nearer to the mines, which we know by the increasing blackness +of the road; until at last we bowl past rows of one story dingy +tenements of brick, with miners' wives and children clustered about them +like funereal flowers; until we see the forges and jets of steam, and +davits uplifted in the air; and hear the rattle of the iron trucks and +the rush of the coal as it runs through the schutes into the rail-cars +on the road beneath. We tie our pony beside a cinder-heap, and mount a +ladder to the level of the huge platform above the shaft. A constant +supply of small hand-cars come up with demoniac groans and shrieks from +the bowels of the earth through the shaft. These are instantly seized by +the laborers and run over an iron floor to the schute, where they are +caught in titantic trammels, and overturned into harsh thunder. +Meanwhile the demon car-bringer has sunk again on its errand; the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +suspending rope wheeling down with dizzy swiftness. As one car-bearer +descends, another rises to the surface with its twin wheel-vessels of +coal.</p> + +<p>"Would you like to go down?"</p> + +<p>"How far down?"</p> + +<p>"Sixty fathoms."</p> + +<p>Three hundred and sixty feet! Think of being suspended by a thread, from +a height twice that of Trinity's spire, and whirled into such a depth by +steam! We crawled into the little iron box, just large enough to allow +us to sit up with our heads against the top, both ends of our parachute +being open; the operator presses down a bar, and instantly the earth and +sky disappear, and we are wrapt in utter darkness. Oh? how sickening is +this sinking feeling! Down—down—down! What a gigantic dumb-waiter! +Down, down, a hot gust of vapor—a stifling sensation—a concussion upon +the iron floor at the foot of the shaft; a multitude of twinkling lamps, +of fiends, of grimy faces, and no bodies—and we are in a coal-mine.</p> + +<p>There was a black, bituminous seat for visitors, sculptured out of the +coal, just beyond the shaft, and to this we were led by the +carboniferous fiends. My heart beat violently. I do not know how it went +with Picton, but we were both silent. Oh!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> for a glimpse of the blue sky +and waving trees above us, and a long breath of fresh air!</p> + +<p>As soon as the stifling sensation passed away, we breathed more freely, +and the lungs became accustomed to the subterranean atmosphere. In the +gloom, we could see the smutted features only, of miners moving about, +and to heighten the Dantesque reality, new and strange sounds, from +different parts of the enormous cavern, came pouring towards the common +centre—the shaft of the coal-pit.</p> + +<p>These were the laden cars on the tram-ways, drawn by invisible horses, +from the distant works in the mine, rolling and reverberating through +the infernal aisles of this devil's cathedral. One could scarcely help +recalling the old grandfather of Maud's Lord-lover:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">——"lately died,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gone to a <i>blacker pit</i>, for whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grimy nakedness, dragging his trucks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laying his trams, <i>in a poisoned gloom</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought, till he crept from a gutted mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Master of half a servile shire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left his coal all turned into gold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a grandson, first of his noble line."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Intermingled with these sounds were others, the jar and clash of +gateways, the dripping and splash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>ing of water, the rolling thunder of +the ascending and descending iron parachutes in the shaft, the trampling +of horses, the distant report of powder-blasts, and the shrill jargon of +human speakers, near, yet only partially visible.</p> + +<p>"Is it a clear day overhead?" said the black bust of one of the miners, +with a lamp in its <i>hat</i>!</p> + +<p>Just think of it! We had only been divorced from the aërial blue of a +June sky a minute before. Our very horse was so high above us that we +could have distinguished him only by the aid of a telescope—that is, if +the solid ribs of the globe were not between us and him.</p> + +<p>As soon as we became accustomed to the place, we moved off after the +foreman of the mine. We walked through the miry tram-ways under the low, +black arches, now stepping aside to let an invisible horse and car, +"grating harsh thunder," pass us in the murky darkness; now through a +door-way, momently closed to keep the foul and clear airs separate, +until we came to the great furnace of the mine that draws off all the +noxious vapors from this nest of Beelzebub. Then we went to the stables +where countless horses are stalled—horses that never see the light of +day again, or if they do, are struck blind by the apparition; now in +wider galleries,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> and new explorations, where we behold the busy miners, +twinkling like the distant lights of a city, and hear the thunder-burst, +as the blast explodes in the murky chasms. At last, tired, oppressed, +and sickened with the vast and horrible prison, for such it seems, we +retrace our steps, and once more enter the iron parachute. A touch of +the magic lever, and again we fly away; but now upwards, upwards to the +glorious blue sky and air of mother earth. A miner with his lamp +accompanies us. By its dim light we see how rapidly we spin through the +shaft. Our car clashes again at the top, and as we step forth into the +clear sunshine, we thank <span class="smcap">God</span> for such a bright and beautiful world up +stairs!</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said I, "Picton, what we would do if we had such a +devil's pit as that in the States?"</p> + +<p>"Well?" answered the traveller, interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"We would make niggers work it."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," replied Picton, drily and satirically; "but, sir, I am +proud to say that our government does not tolerate barbarity; to consign +an inoffensive fellow-creature to such horrible labor, merely because he +is black, is at variance with the well-known humanity of the whole +British nation, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But those miners, Picton, were black as the devil himself."</p> + +<p>"The miners," replied Picton, with impressive gravity, "are black, but +not negroes."</p> + +<p>"Nothing but mere white people, Picton?"</p> + +<p>"Eh?" said the traveller.</p> + +<p>"Only white people, and therefore we need not waste one grain of +sympathy over a whole pit full of them."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are not niggers, what is the use of wasting sympathy upon +a rat-hole full of white British subjects?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you what it is," said Picton, "you are getting personal."</p> + +<p>We were now rolling past the dingy tenements again. Squalid-looking, +care-worn women, grimy children:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To me there's something touching, I confess,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the grave look of early thoughtfulness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seen often in some little childish face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the poor;"—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But these children's faces are not such. A child's face—God bless it! +should always have a little sunshine in its glance; but these are mere +staring faces, without expression, that make you shudder and feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> sad. +Miners by birth; human moles fitted to burrow in darkness for a +life-time. Is it worth living for? No wonder those swart laborers +underground are so grim and taciturn: no wonder there was not a face +lighted up by those smoky lamps in the pit, that had one line of human +sympathy left in its rigidly engraved features!</p> + +<p>But we must have coal, and we must have cotton. The whole plantations of +the South barely supply the press with paper; and the messenger of +intelligence, the steam-ship, but for coal could not perform its +glorious mission. What is to be done, Picton? If every man is willing to +give up his morning paper, wear a linen shirt, cross the ocean in a +clipper-ship, and burn wood in an open fire-place, something might be +done.</p> + +<p>As Picton's steamer (probably fog-bound) had not yet arrived in Sydney, +nor yet indeed the "Balaklava," the traveller determined to take a +Newfoundland brigantine for St. John's, from which port there are +vessels to all parts of the world. After leaving horse and jumper with +the inn-keeper, we took a small boat to one of the many queer looking, +high-pooped crafts in the harbor, and very soon found ourselves in a +tiny cabin, panelled with maple, in which the captain and some of the +men were busy over a pan of savory <i>lobscouse</i>, a salt-sea dish of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +great reputation and flavor. Picton soon made his agreement with the +captain for a four days' sail (or more) across to the neighboring +province, and his luggage was to be on board the next morning. Once more +we sailed over the bay of Sydney, and regained the pleasant shelter of +our inn.</p> + +<p>"Picton," said I, after a comfortable supper and a pensive segar, "we +shall soon separate for our respective homes; but before we part, I wish +to say to you how much I have enjoyed this brief acquaintance; perhaps +we may never meet again, but I trust our short voyage together, will now +and then be recalled by you, in whatever part of the world you may +chance to be, as it certainly will by me."</p> + +<p>The traveller replied by a hearty, earnest grasp of the hand; and then, +after this formal leave-taking, we became suddenly estranged, as it +were, sad, and silent, and shy; the familiar tone of conversation lost +its key-note; Picton looked out of the inn window at the luminous +moon-fog on the bay, and I buried my reflections in an antiquated +pamphlet of "Household Words." We were soon interrupted by a stranger +coming into the parlor, a chance visitor, another dry, preceese specimen +of the land of oat-cakes.</p> + +<p>After the usual salutations, the conversation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> floated easily on, upon +indifferent topics, until Picton happened to allude, casually, to the +general banking system of England. This was enough for a text. Our +visitor immediately launched forth upon the subject, and gaed us a +twa-hours discourse on the system of banking in Scotland; wherein the +superiority of the method adopted by his countrymen, to wring the last +drop of interest out a shilling, was pertinaciously and dogmatically +argued, upon the great groundwork of "the general and aibstract +preencepels of feenance!"</p> + +<p>It was in vain that the traveller endeavored to silence him by a few +flashes of sarcasm. He might as well have tried to silence a park of +artillery with a handful of torpedoes! On and on, with the doggedness of +a slow-hound, the Scot pursued the theme, until all other considerations +were lost in the one sole idea.</p> + +<p>But thus it is always, when you come in contact with people of +"aibstract preencepels." All sweet and tender impulses, all generous and +noble suggestions, all light and shade, all warmth and color, must give +place to these dry husks of reason.</p> + +<p>"Confound the Scotch interloper," said Picton, after our visitor had +retired, "what business had he to impose upon our good nature, with his +threadbare 'aibstract preencepels?' Confound him and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> his beggarly high +cheek-bones, and his Caledonian pock-pits. I am sorry that I ever came +to this part of the world; it has ruined a taste which I had acquired, +with much labor, for Scottish poetry; and I shall never see 'Burns's +Works' again without a sickening shudder."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Bras d'Or Road—Farewell to Picton—Home sweet Home—The Rob Roys of +Cape Breton—Note and Query—Chapel Island—St. Peter's—Enterprise—The +Strait of Canseau—West River—The last Out-post of the Scottish Chiefs.</p> + +<p>The road that skirts the Arm of Gold is about one hundred miles in +length. After leaving Sydney, you ride beside the Spanish River a short +distance, until you come to the portage, which separates it from the +lake, and then you follow the delicious curve of the great beach until +you arrive at St. Peter's. From St. Peter's you travel across a narrow +strip of land until you reach the shore upon the extreme westerly end of +the island of Cape Breton, where you cross the Strait of Canseau, and +then you are upon the mainland of Nova Scotia. I had fondly hoped to +voyage upon the Bras d'Or, instead of beside it; but was obliged to +forego that pleasure. Romance, at one dollar per mile, is a dear piece +of extravagance, even in so ethereal a vehicle as a birch-bark canoe. +Therefore I engaged a seat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> in the Cape Breton stage, instead of the +aboriginal conveyance, in which you have to sit or lie in the bottom, at +the risk of an upset, and trust to fair weather and the dip of the +paddle.</p> + +<p>At day-break (two o'clock in the morning in these high latitudes) the +stage drove up to the door of our pleasant inn. I was speedily dressed, +and ready—and now—"Good bye, Picton!"</p> + +<p>The traveller stretched out a hand from the warm nest in which he was +buried.</p> + +<p>"Good bye," he said, with a hearty hand-shake, and so we parted.</p> + +<p>It was painful to leave such an agreeable companion, but then what a +relief it was to escape from the cannie Scots! The first inhalation of +the foggy air went tingling through every vein; the first movement of +the stage, as we rolled westward, was indescribable happiness; I was at +last homeward bound; in full health, in full strength; swift upon my +sight came the vision of the one familiar river; the cottage and the +chestnuts; the rolling greensward, and the Palisades; and there, too, +was my <i>best</i> friend; and there—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My young barbarians all at play."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Drive on, John Ormond!</p> + +<p>Our Cape Breton stage is an easy, two-seated ve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>hicle; a quiet, little +rockaway-wagon, with a top; and although H. B. M. Royal Mail Coach, +entirely different from the huge musk-melon upon wheels with which we +are familiar in the States. In it I am the only passenger. Thank Heaven +for that! I might be riding beside an aibstract preencepel.</p> + +<p>But never mind! Drive on, John Ormond; we shall soon be among another +race of Scotsmen, the bold Highlandmen of romance; the McGregors, and +McPhersons, the Camerons, Grahams, and McDonalds; and as a century or so +does not alter the old-country prejudices of the people in these +settlements, we will no doubt find them in their pristine habiliments; +in plaids and spleuchens; brogues and buckles; hose and bonnets; with +claymore, dirk, and target; the white cockade and eagle feather, so +beautiful in the Waverley Novels.</p> + +<p>We left the pretty village of Sydney behind us, and were not long in +gaining the margin of the Bras d'Or. This great lake, or rather arm of +the sea, is, as I have said, about one hundred miles in length by its +shore road; but so wide is it, and so indented by broad bays and deep +coves, that a coasting journey around it is equal in extent to a voyage +across the Atlantic. Besides the distant mountains that rise proudly +from the remote shores, there are many noble islands in its expanse, and +forest-covered penin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>sulas, bordered with beaches of glittering white +pebbles. But over all this wide landscape there broods a spirit of +primeval solitude; not a sail broke the loneliness of the lake until we +had advanced far upon our day's journey. For strange as it may seem, the +Golden Arm is a very useless piece of water in this part of the world; +highly favored as it is by nature, land-locked, deep enough for vessels +of all burden, easy of access on the gulf side, free from fogs, and only +separated from the ocean at its western end by a narrow strip of land, +about three quarters of a mile wide; abounding in timber, coal, and +gypsum, and valuable for its fisheries, especially in winter, yet the +Bras d'Or is undeveloped for want of that element which scorns to be +alien to the Colonies, namely, <i>enterprise</i>.</p> + +<p>If I had formed some romantic ideas concerning the new and strange +people we found on the road we were now travelling, the Highlandmen, the +Rob Roys and Vich Ian Vohrs of Nova Scotia, those ideas were soon +dissipated. It is true here were the Celts in their wild settlements, +but without bagpipes or pistols, sporrans or philabegs; there was not +even a solitary thistle to charm the eye; and as for oats, there were at +least two Scotchmen to one oat in this garden of exotics. I have a +reasonable amount of respect for a Highlandman in full cos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span>tume; but for +a carrot-headed, freckled, high-cheeked animal, in a round hat and +breeches, that cannot utter a word of English, I have no sympathy. One +fellow of this complexion, without a hat, trotted beside our coach for +several miles, grunting forth his infernal Gaelic to John Ormond, with a +hah! to every answer of the driver, that was really painful. When he +disappeared in the woods his red head went out like a torch. But we had +scarcely gone by the first Highlandman, when another darted out upon us +from a by-path, and again broke the sabbath of the woods and waters; and +then another followed, so that the morning ride by the Bras d'Or was +fringed with Gaelic. Now I have heard many languages in my time, and +know how to appreciate the luxurious Greek, the stately Latin, the +<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: +Original has 'melliflous'">mellifluous</ins> Chinese, the epithetical Sclavic, the soft Italian, the rich +Castilian, the sprightly French, sonorous German, and good old English, +but candor compels me to say, that I do not think much of the Gaelic. It +is not pleasing to the ear.</p> + +<p>Yet it was a stately ride, that by the Bras d'Or; in one's own coach, as +it were, traversing such old historic ground. For the very name, and its +associations, carry one back to the earliest discoveries in America, +carry one back behind Plymouth Rock to the earlier French adventurers in +this hemi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>sphere; yea, almost to the times of Richard Crookback; for on +the neighboring shores, as the English claim, Cabot first landed, and +named the place <i>Prima Vista</i>, in the days of Henry the Seventh, the +"Richmond" of history and tragedy.</p> + +<p>"Le Bras d'Or! John Ormond, do you not think le Bras d'Or sounds much +like Labrador?"</p> + +<p>"'Deed does it," answered John.</p> + +<p>"And why not? That mysterious, geological coast is only four days' sail +from Sydney, I take it? Labrador! with its auks and puffins, its seals +and sea-tigers, its whales and walruses? Why not an offshoot of le Bras +d'Or, its earlier brother in the family of discovery. But drive on, John +Ormond, we will leave etymology to the pedants."</p> + +<p>Well, well, ancient or modern, there is not a lovelier ride by +white-pebbled beach and wide stretch of wave. Now we roll along amidst +primeval trees, not the evergreens of the sea-coast, but familiar +growths of maple, beech, birch; and larches, juniper or +<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's note: +Original has 'hacmatack'. Standardised with other uses">hackmatack</ins>—imperishable for ship craft. Now we cross bridges, over +sparkling brooks, alive with trout and salmon, and most surprising of +all, pregnant with <i>water-power</i>. "Surprising," because no motive-power +can be presented to the eye of a citizen of the young republic without +the corresponding thought of "Why not use it?" And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> why not, when Bras +d'Or is so near, or the sea-coast either, and land at forty cents an +acre, and trees as closely set, and as lofty, as ever nature planted +them? Of a certainty, there would be a thousand saw-mills screaming +between this and Canseau if a drop of Yankee blood had ever fertilized +this soil.</p> + +<p>Well, well, perhaps it is well. But yet to ride through a hundred miles +of denationalized, high-cheeked, red, or black-headed Highlandmen, with +illustrious names, in breeches and round hats, without pistols or +feathers, is a sorry sight. Not one of these McGregors can earn more +than five shillings a day, currency, as a laborer. Not a digger upon our +canals but can do better than that; and with the chance of <i>rising</i>. But +here there seems be no such opportunity. The colonial system provides +that every settler shall have a grant of about one hundred and twenty +acres, in fee, and free. What then? the Government fosters and protects +him. It sends out annually choice stocks of cattle, at a nominal price; +it establishes a tariff of duties on foreign goods, so low that the +revenue derived therefrom is not sufficient to pay the salaries of its +officers. What then? The colonist is only a parasite with all these +advantages. He is not an integral part of a nation; a citizen, +responsible for his franchise. He is but a colonial Micmac, or +Scotch-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>Mac; a mere sub-thoughted, irresponsible exotic, in a +governmental cold grapery. By the great forefinger of Tom Jefferson, I +would rather be a citizen of the United States than <i>own</i> all the +five-shilling Blue Noses between Sydney and Canseau!</p> + +<p>As we roll along up hill and down, a startling flash of sunlight bursts +forth from the dewy morning clouds, and touches lake, island, and +promontory, with inexpressible beauty. Stop, John Ormond, or drive +slowly; let us enjoy <i>dolce far niente</i>. To hang now in our curricle +upon this wooded hill-top, overlooking the clear surface of the lake, +with leafy island, and peninsula dotted in its depths, in all its native +grace, without a touch or trace of hand-work, far or near, save and +except a single spot of sail in the far-off, is holy and sublime.</p> + +<p>And there we rested, reverentially impressed with the week-day sabbath. +We lingered long and lovingly upon our woody promontory, our eyrie among +the spruces of Cape Breton.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Down hill go horses and mail-coach, and we are lost in a vast avenue of +twinkling birches. For<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> miles we ride within breast-high hedges of sunny +shrubs, until we reach another promontory, where Bras d'Or again breaks +forth, with bay, island, white beach, peninsula, and sparkling cove. And +before us, bowered in trees, lies Chapel Island, the Micmac Mecca, with +its Catholic Church and consecrated ground. Here at certain seasons the +red men come to worship the white <span class="smcap">Christ</span>. Here the western descendants +of Ishmael pitch their bark tents, and swing their barbaric censers +before the Asiatic-born <span class="smcap">Redeemer</span>. "They that dwell in the wilderness +shall bow before <span class="smcap">Him</span>." That gathering must be a touching sermon to the +heart of faith!</p> + +<p>But we roll onwards, and now are again on the clearings, among the +log-cabins of the Highlandmen. Although every settler has his +governmental farm, yet nearly the whole of it is still in forest-land. A +log hut and cleared-acre lot, with Flora McIvor's grubbing, hoeing, or +chopping, while their idle lords and masters trot beside the mail-coach +to hear the news, are the only results of the home patronage. At last we +come to a gentle declivity, a bridge lies below us, a wider brook; we +cross over to find a cosy inn and a rosy landlord on the other side; and +John Ormond lays down the ribbons, after a sixty-mile drive, to say: +"This is St. Peter's."</p> + +<p>Now so far us the old-fashioned inns of New Scot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>land are concerned, I +must say they make me ashamed of our own. Soap, sand, and water, do not +cost so much as carpets, curtains, and fly-blown mirrors; but still, to +the jaded traveller, they have a more attractive aspect. We sit before a +snow-white table without a cloth, in the inn-parlor, kitchen, laundry, +and dining-room, all in one, just over against the end of the lake; and +enjoy a rasher of bacon and eggs with as much gusto as if we were in the +midst of a palace of fresco. Ornamental eating has become with us a +species of gaudy, ostentatious vulgarity; and a dining-room a sort of +fool's paradise. I never think of the little simple meal at St. Peter's +now, without tenderness and respect.</p> + +<p>Here we change—driver, stage, and horses. Still no other passenger. The +new whip is a Yankee from the State of Maine; a tall, black-eyed, +taciturn fellow, with gold rings in his ears. Now we pass the narrow +strip of land that divides Bras d'Or from the ocean. It is only +three-quarters of a mile wide between water and water, and look at +Enterprise digging out a canal! By the bronze statue of De Witt Clinton, +if there are not three of the five-shilling Rob Roys at work, with two +shovels, a horse, and one cart!</p> + +<p>As we approach Canseau the landscape becomes flat and uninteresting; but +distant ranges of moun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>tains rise up against the evening sky, and as we +travel on towards their bases they attract the eye more and more. +Ear-rings is not very communicative. He does not know the names of any +of them. Does not know how high they are, but has heard say they are the +highest mountains in Nova Scotia. "Are those the mountains of Canseau?" +Yes, them's them. So with renewed anticipations we ride on towards the +strait "of unrivalled beauty," that travellers say "surpasses anything +in America."</p> + +<p>And, indeed, Canseau can have my feeble testimony in confirmation. It is +a grand marine highway, having steep hills on the Cape Breton Island +side, and lofty mountains on the other shore; a full, broad, mile-wide +space between them; and reaching from end to end, fifteen miles, from +the Atlantic to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. As I took leave of Ear-rings, +at Plaister Cove, and wrapped myself up in my cloak in the stern-sheets +of the row-boat to cross the strait, the full Acadian moon, larger than +any United States moon, rose out of her sea-fog, and touched mountain, +height, and billow, with effulgence. It was a scene of Miltonic +grandeur. After the ruined walls of Louisburgh, and the dark caverns of +Sydney, comes Canseau, with its startling splendors! Truly this is a +wonderful country.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>Another night in a clean Nova-Scotian inn on the mountain-side, a deep +sleep, and balmy awakening in the clear air. Yet some exceptions must be +taken to the early sun in this latitude. To get up at two o'clock or +four; to ride thirty or forty miles to breakfast, with a convalescent +appetite, is painful. But yet, "to him, who in the love of Nature holds +communion with her visible forms, she speaks a various language." +Admiration and convalescent hunger make a very good team in this +beautiful country. You look out upon the unfathomable Gulf of St. +Lawrence, and feel as if you were an unfathomable gulf yourself. You +ride through lofty woods, with a tantalizing profusion of living edibles +in your path; at every moment a cock-rabbit is saying his prayers before +the horses; at every bosk and bole a squirrel stares at you with +unwinking eyes, and Robin Yellow-bill hops, runs, and flies before the +coach within reach of the driver's whip, <i>sans peur</i>! And this too is +the land of moose and cariboo: here the hunters, on snow-shoes, track +the huge animals in the season; and moose and cariboo, in the Halifax +markets, are cheaper than beef with us. And to think this place is only +a four days' journey from the metropolis, in the languid winter! By the +ashes of Nimrod, I will launch myself on a pair of snow-shoes, and shoot +a moose in the snow before I am twelve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> months older, as sure as these +ponies carry us to breakfast!</p> + +<p>"How far are we from breakfast, driver?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty miles," quoth Jehu.</p> + +<p>Now I had been anxious to get a sight of our ponies, for the sake of +estimating their speed and endurance; but at this time they were not in +sight. For the coach we (three passengers) were in, was built like an +omnibus-sleigh on wheels, with a high seat and "dasher" in front, so +that we could not see what it was that drew our ark, and therefore I +climbed up in the driver's perch to overlook our motors. There were four +of them; little, shaggy, black ponies, with bunchy manes and fetlocks, +not much larger than Newfoundland dogs. Yet they swept us along the road +as rapidly as if they were full-sized horses, up hill and down, without +visible signs of fatigue. And now we passed through another French +settlement, "Tracadie," and again the Norman kirtle and petticoat of the +pastoral, black-eyed Evangelines hove in sight, and passed like a +day-dream. And here we are in an English settlement, where we enjoy a +substantial breakfast, and then again ride through the primeval woods, +with an occasional glimpse of the broad Gulf and its mountain scenery, +until we come upon a pretty inland village, by name Antigonish.</p> + +<p>At Antigonish, we find a bridal party, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> pretty English landlady +offers us wine and cake with hospitable welcome; and a jovial time of it +we have until we are summoned, by crack of whip, to ride over to West +River.</p> + +<p>I must say that the natural prejudices we have against Nova Scotia are +ill-placed, unjust, and groundless. The country itself is the great +redeeming feature of the province, and a very large portion of it is +uninfested by Scotchmen. Take for instance the road we are now +travelling. For hours we bowl along a smooth turnpike, in the midst of a +deep forest: although scarce a week has elapsed since these gigantic +trees were leafless, yet the foliage has sprung forth as it were with a +touch, and now the canopy of leaves about us, and overhead, is so dense +as scarcely to afford a twinkle of light from the sun. Sometimes we ride +by startling precipices and winding streams; sometimes overlook an +English settlement, with its rolling pasture-lands, bare of trees and +rich in verdure. At last we approach the precincts of Northumberland +Strait, and are cleverly carried into New Glasgow. It is fast-day, and +the shops are closed in Sabbath stillness; but on the sign-boards of the +village one reads the historic names of "Ross" and "Cameron;" and +"Graham," "McGregor" and "McDonald." What a pleasant thing it must be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +to live in that village! Here too I saw for the first time in the +province a thistle! But it was a silver-plated one, in the blue bonnet +of a "pothecary's boy." A metallic effigy of the <span class="smcap">original plant</span>, that +had bloomed some generations ago in native land. There was poetry in it, +however, even on the brow of an incipient apothecary.</p> + +<p>When we had put New Glasgow behind us, we felt relieved, and rode along +the marshes on the border of the strait that divides the Province from +Prince Edward's Island, so named in honor of his graceless highness the +Duke of Kent, Edward, father of our Queen Victoria. Thence we came forth +upon higher ground, the coal-mines of Pictou; and here is the great +Pictou railway, from the mines to the town, six miles in length. Then by +rolling hill and dale down to West River, where John Frazer keeps the +Twelve-Mile House. This inn is clean and commodious; only twelve miles +from Pictou; and, reader, I would advise you, as twelve miles is but a +short distance, to go to Pictou without stopping at West River. For John +Frazer's is a house of petty annoyances. From the moment you enter, you +feel the insolence of the surly, snarling landlord, and his no less +gifted lady; the same old greed which has no eye except for money; the +miserly table, for which you are obliged to pay be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>fore hand; the lack +of attendance; the abundance of impertinence. Just as you are getting +into bed you are peremptorily called to the door to pay for your room, +which haply you had forgotten; if you want your boots brushed the answer +is, "Perhaps"—if you request them to call you in the morning, for the +only stage, they say, "Just as it happens;" (indeed, it was only by +accident that the stage-driver discovered he had one more trunk than his +complement of passengers, and so awoke me just as the coach was on the +point of departure;) if you can submit to all this, then, reader, go to +Twelve-Mile House, at West River.</p> + +<p>We left this last outpost of the Scotch settlements with pleasure. After +all, there is a secret feeling of joy in contrasting one's self with +such wretched, penurious, mis-made specimens of the human animal. And +from this time henceforth I shall learn to prize my own language, and +not be carried away by any catch-penny Scotch synonyms, such as the +<i>lift</i> for the sky, and the <i>gloamin</i> for twilight. And as for<i>poortith +cauld</i>, and <i>pauky chiel</i>, I leave them to those who can appreciate +them:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell, farewell, beggarly Scotland,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Cold and beggarly poor countrie;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If ever I cross thy border again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The muckle deil maun carry me."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Ride from West River—A Fellow Passenger—Parallels of History—One +Hundred Romances—Baron de Castine—His Character—Made Chief of the +Abenaquis—Duke of York's Charter—Encroachments of the +Puritans—Church's Indian Wars—False Reports—Reflections.</p> + +<p>It would make a curious collection of pictures if I had obtained +photographs of all the coaches I travelled in, and upon, during my brief +sojourn in the province; some high, some low, some red, some green, or +yellow as it chanced, with horses few or many, often superior +animals—stylish, fast, and sound; and again, the most diminutive of +ponies, such as Monsieur the Clown drives into the ring of his canvass +coliseum when he utters the pleasant salute of "Here I am, with all my +little family?" This morning we have the old, familiar stage-coach of +Yankee land—red, picked out with yellow; high, narrow, iron steps; +broad thoroughbraces; wide seats; all jingle, tip, tilt, and rock, from +one end of the road to the other. My fellow traveller on the box is a +little man with a big hat; soft spoken, sweet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> voiced, and excessively +shy and modest. But this was a most pleasing change from the experiences +of the last few hours, let me tell you; and, if you ever travel by West +River, you will find any change pleasant—no matter what.</p> + +<p>My companion was shy, but not taciturn; on the contrary, he could talk +well enough after the ice was broken, and long enough, too, for that +matter. I found that he was a Church of England clergyman by profession, +and a Welshman by birth. He was well versed in the earlier history of +the colony—that portion of it which is by far the most interesting—I +mean its French or Acadian period. "There are in the traditions and +scattered fragments of history that yet survive in this once unhappy +land," he said, in a peculiarly low and mellifluous voice, "much that +deserves to be embalmed in story and in poetry. Your Longfellow has +already preserved one of the most touching of its incidents; but I think +I am safe in asserting that there yet remain the materials of one +hundred romances. Take the whole history of Acadia during the +seventeenth century—the almost patriarchal simplicity of its society, +the kindness, the innocence, the virtues of its people; the universal +toleration which prevailed among them, in spite of the interference of +the home government; look,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> said he, "at the perfect and abiding faith +which existed between them and the Indians! Does the world-renowned +story of William Penn alone merit our encomiums, except that we have +forgotten this earlier but not less beautiful example? And with the true +spirit of Christianity, when they refused to take up arms in their own +defence, preferring rather to die by their faith than shed the blood of +other men; to what parallel in history can we turn, if not to the +martyred Hussites, for whom humanity has not yet dried all its tears?"</p> + +<p>As he said this, a little flush passed over his face, and he appeared +for a moment as if surprised at his own enthusiasm; then shrinking under +his big hat again, he relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>We rode on for some time without a word on either side, until I ventured +to remark that I coincided with him in the belief that Acadia was the +romantic ground of early discovery in America; and that even the fluent +pen of Hawthorne had failed to lend a charm to the harsh, repulsive, +acrimonious features of New England's colonial history.</p> + +<p>"I have read but one book of Hawthorne's," said he—"'The Scarlet +Letter.' I do not coincide with you; I think that to be a remarkable +instance of the triumph of genius over difficulties. By the way," said +he, "speaking of authors, what an ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>quisite poem Tom Moore would have +written, had he visited Chapel Island, which you have seen no doubt? +(here he gave a little nod with the big hat) and what a rich volume +would have dropped from the arabesque pen of your own Irving (another +nod), had he written the life of the Baron de St. Castine, chief of the +Abenaquis, as he did that of Philip of Pokanoket."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the particulars of that history?" said I.</p> + +<p>"I do not know the particulars," he replied, "only the outlines derived +from chronicle and tradition. Imagination," he added, with a faint +smile, "can supply the rest, just as an engineer pacing a bastion can +draw from it the proportions of the rest of the fortress."</p> + +<p>And then, from under the shelter of the big hat, there came low and sad +tones of music, like a requiem over a bier, upon which are laid funeral +flowers, and sword, and plume; a melancholy voice almost intoning the +history of a Christian hero, who had been the chief of that powerful +nation—the rightful owners of the fair lands around us. Even if memory +could now supply the words, it would fail to reproduce the effect +conveyed by the tones of <i>that voice</i>. And of the story itself I can but +furnish the faint outlines:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="spaced">FAINT OUTLINES.</span></p> + +<p>Baron de St. Castine, chief of the Abenaquis, was a Frenchman, born in +the little village of Oberon, in the province of Bearn, about the middle +of the seventeenth century. Three great influences conspired to make him +unhappy—first, education, which at that time was held to be a reputable +part of the discipline of the scions of noble families; next, a delicate +and impressible mind, and lastly, he was born under the shadow of the +Pyrenees, and within sight of the Atlantic. He had also served in the +wars of Louis XIV. as colonel of the Carrignan, Cavignon, or Corignon +regiment; therefore, from his military education, was formed to endure, +or to think lightly of hardships. Although not by profession a +Protestant, yet he was a liberal Catholic. The doctrines of Calvin had +been spread throughout the province during his youth, and John la +Placette, a native of Bearn, was then one of the leaders of the free +churches of Copenhagen, in Denmark, and of Utrecht, in Holland.</p> + +<p>But, whatever his religious prejudices may have been, they do not +intrude themselves in any part of his career; we know him only as a pure +Christian, an upright man, and a faithful friend of humanity. Like many +other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> Frenchmen of birth and education in those days, the Baron de St. +Castine had been attracted by descriptions of newly discovered countries +in the western hemisphere, and fascinated by the ideal life of the +children of nature. To a mind at once susceptible and heroic, impulsive +by temperament, and disciplined to endure, such promptings have a charm +that is irresistible. As the chronicler relates, he preferred the +forests of Acadia, to the Pyrenian mountains that compassed the place of +his nativity, and taking up his abode with the savages, on the first +year behaved himself so among them as to draw from them their +inexpressible esteem. He married a woman of the nation, and repudiating +their example, did not change his wife, by which he taught his wild +neighbors that God did not love inconstancy. By this woman, his first +and only wife, he had one son and two daughters, the latter were +afterwards married, "very handsomely, to Frenchmen, and had good +dowries." Of the son there is preserved a single touching incident. In +person the baron was strikingly handsome, a fine form, a well featured +face, with a noble expression of candor, firmness and benevolence. +Possessed of an ample fortune, he used it to enlarge the comforts of the +people of his adoption; these making him a recom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>pense in beaver skins +and other rich furs, from which he drew a still larger revenue, to be in +turn again devoted to the objects of his benevolence. It was said of +him, "that he can draw from his coffers two or three hundred thousand +crowns of good dry gold; but all the use he makes of it is to buy +presents for his <i>fellow savages</i>, who, upon their return from hunting, +present him with skins to treble the value."</p> + +<p>Is it then surprising that this man, so wise, so good, so faithful to +his <i>fellow savages</i>, should, after twenty years, rise to the most +eminent station in that unsophisticated nation? That indeed these simple +Indians, who knew no arts except those of peace and war, should have +looked up to him as their tutular god? By the treaty of Breda, the lands +from the Penobscots to Nova Scotia had been ceded to France, in exchange +for the island of St. Christopher. Upon these lands the Baron de St. +Castine had peacefully resided for many years, until a new patent was +granted to the Duke of York, the boundaries of which extended beyond the +limits of the lands ceded by the treaty. Oh, those patents! those +patents! What wrongs were perpetrated by those remorseless instruments; +what evil councils prevailed when they were hatched; what corrupt, what +base, what knavish hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> formed them; what vile, what ignoble, what +ponderous lies has history assumed to maintain, or to excuse them, and +the acts committed under them?</p> + +<p>The first English aggression after the treaty, was but a trifling one in +respect to immediate effects. A quantity of wine having been landed by a +French vessel upon the lands covered by the patent, was seized by the +Duke of York's agents. This, upon a proper representation by the French +ambassador at the court of Charles II., was restored to the rightful +owners. But thereupon a new boundary line was run, <i>and the whole of +Castine's plantations included within it</i>. Immediately after this, the +Rose frigate, under the command of Captain Andross, sailed up the +Penobscot, plundered and destroyed Castine's house and fort, and sailed +away with all his arms and goods. Not only this, intruders from other +quarters invaded the lands of the Indians, took possession of the +rivers, and spoiled the fisheries with seines, turned their cattle in to +devour the standing corn of the Abenaquis, and committed other +depredations, which, although complained of, were neither inquired into +nor redressed.</p> + +<p>Then came reprisals; and first the savages retaliated by killing the +cattle of their enemies. Then followed those fearful and bloody +campaigns, which,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> under the name of Church's Indian Wars, disgrace the +early annals of New England. Night surprises, butcheries that spared +neither age nor sex, prisoners taken and sold abroad into slavery, after +the glut of revenge was satiated, these to return and bring with them an +inextinguishable hatred against the English, and desire of revenge. Anon +a conspiracy and the surprisal of Dover, accompanied with all the +appalling features of barbaric warfare—Major Waldron being tied down by +the Indians in his own arm-chair, and each one of them drawing a sharp +knife across his breast, says with the stroke, "Thus I cross out my +account;" these, and other atrocities, on either side, constitute the +principal records of a Christian people, who professed to be only +pilgrims and sojourners in a strange land—the victims of persecution in +their own.</p> + +<p>Daring all this dark and bloody period, no name is more conspicuous in +the annals than that of the Chief of the Abenaquis. Like a frightful +ogre, he hovers in the background, deadly and ubiquitous—the terror of +the colonies. It was he who had stirred up the Indians to do the work. +Then come reports of a massacre in some town on the frontier, and with +it is coupled a whisper of "Castine!" a fort has been surprised, he is +there! Some of Church's men have fallen in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> ambuscade; the baron has +planned it, and furnished the arms and ammunition by which the deed was +consummated! Superstition invests him with imaginary powers; fanaticism +exclaims, 'tis he who had taught the savages to believe that we are the +people who crucified the Saviour.</p> + +<p>But in spite of all these stories, the wonderful Bernese is not +captured, nor indeed seen by any, except that sometimes an English +prisoner escaping from the enemy, comes to tell of his clemency and +tenderness; he has bound up the wounds of these, he has saved the lives +of those. At last a small settlement of French and Indians is attacked +by Church's men at Penobscot, every person there being either killed or +taken prisoner; among the latter a daughter of the great baron, with her +children, from whom they learn that her unhappy father, ruined and +broken-hearted, had returned to France, the victim of persecutors, who, +under the name of saints, exhibited a cruelty and rapacity that would +have disgraced the reputation of a Philip or an Alva!</p> + +<p>"It is a matter of surprise to the historical student," said the little +man, "that with a people like yours, so conspicuous in many rare +examples of erudition, that the history of Acadia has not merited a +closer attention, throwing as it does so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> strong a reflective light upon +your own. Such a task doubtless does not present many inviting features, +especially to those who would preserve, at any sacrifice of truth, the +earlier pages of discovery in America, pure, spotless, and unsullied. +But I think this dark, tragic background would set off all the brighter +the characters of those really good men who flourished in that period, +of whom there were no doubt many, although now obscured by the dull, +dead moonshine of indiscriminate forefathers' flattery. I know very well +that in some regards we might copy the example of a few of the first +planters of New England, but for the rest I believe with Adam Clark, +that for the sake of humanity, it were better that such ages should +never return."</p> + +<p>"We talk much," says he, "of ancient manners, their <i>simplicity and +ingenuousness</i>, and say that <i>the former days were better than these</i>. +But who says this who is a judge of the times? In those days of +celebrated simplicity, there were not so <i>many</i> crimes as at present, I +grant; but what they wanted in <i>number</i>, they made up in <i>degree</i>; +<i>deceit</i>, <i>cruelty</i>, <i>rapine</i>, <i>murder</i>, and <i>wrong</i> of almost every +kind, then flourished. <i>We</i> are <i>refined</i> in our vices, they were +<i>gross</i> and <i>barbarous</i> in theirs. They had neither so many <i>ways</i> nor +so many <i>means</i> of sinning; but the <i>sum</i> of their moral turpi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>tude was +greater than ours. We have a sort of <i>decency</i> and good <i>breeding</i>, +which lay a certain restraint on our passions; they were boorish and +beastly, and their bad passions ever in full play. Civilization prevents +barbarity and atrocity; mental cultivation induces decency of +manners—those primitive times were generally without these. Who that +knows them would wish such ages to return?"<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Truro—On the Road to Halifax—Drive to the Left—A Member of the +Foreign Legion—Irish Wit at Government Expense—The first Battle of the +Legion—Ten Pounds Reward—Sir John Gaspard's Revenge—The Shubenacadie +Lakes—Dartmouth Ferry, and the Hotel Waverley.</p> + +<p>Pleasant Truro! At last we regain the territories of civility and +civilization! Here is the honest little English inn, with its cheerful +dining-room, its clean spread, its abundant dishes, its glass of ripe +ale, its pleased alacrity of service. After our long ride from West +River, we enjoy the best inn's best room, the ease, the comfort, and the +fair aspect of one of the prettiest towns in the province. Truro is +situated on the head waters of the Basin of Minas, or Cobequid Bay, as +it is denominated on the map, between the Shubenacadie and Salmon +rivers. Here we are within fifty miles of the idyllic land, the pastoral +meadows of Grand-Pré! But, alas! there is yet a long ride before us; the +path from Truro to Grand-Pré being in the shape of an acute angle, of +which Halifax is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> apex. As yet there is no direct road from place to +place, but by the shores of the Basin of Minas. Let us look, however, at +pleasant Truro.</p> + +<p>One of the striking features of this part of the country is the +peculiarity of the rivers; these are full or empty, with every flux and +reflux of the tide; for instance, when we crossed the Salmon, we saw +only a high, broad, muddy ditch, drained to the very bottom. This is +owing to the ocean tides, which, sweeping up the Bay of Fundy, pour into +the Basin of Minas, and fill all its tributary streams; then, with +prodigal reaction, sweeping forth again, leave only the vacant channels +of the rivers—if they may be called by that name. This peculiar feature +of hydrography is of course local—limited to this section of the +province—indeed if it be not to this corner of the world. The country +surrounding the village is well cultivated, diversified with rolling +hill and dale, and although I had not the opportunity of seeing much of +it, yet the mere description of its natural scenery was sufficiently +tempting. Here, too, I saw something that reminded me of home—a clump +of cedar-trees! These of course were exotics, brought, not without +expense, from the States, planted in the courtyard of a little +aristocratic cottage, and protected in winter by warm over-coats of +wheat straw.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> So we go! Here they grub up larches and spruces to plant +cedars.</p> + +<p>The mail coach was soon at the door of our inn, and after taking leave +of my fellow-traveller with the big hat, I engaged a seat on the +stage-box beside Jeangros, a French Canadian, or Canuck—one of the best +whips on the line. Jeangros is not a great portly fellow, as his name +would seem to indicate, but a spare, small man—nevertheless with an air +of great courage and command. Jeangros touched up the leaders, the +mail-coach rattled through the street of the town, and off we trotted +from Truro into the pleasant road that leads to Halifax.</p> + +<p>One thing I observed in the province especially worthy of imitation—the +old English practice of turning to the <i>left</i> in driving, instead of to +the <i>right</i>, as we do. Let me exhibit the merits of the respective +systems by a brief diagram. By the English system they drive thus:</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="image230" name="image230"></a> + <img src="images/image230.png" + alt="English system of driving on the left." + title="English system of driving on the left." /> +</div> + +<p>The arrows represent the drivers, as well as the directions of the +vehicles; of course when two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> vehicles, coming in opposite directions, +pass each other on the road, each driver is nearest the point of +contact, and can see readily, and provide against accidents. Now +contrast our system with the former:</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="image231" name="image231"></a> + <img src="images/image231.png" + alt="American system of driving on the right." + title="American system of driving on the right." /> +</div> + +<p>no wonder we have so many collisions.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The rule of the road is a paradox quite,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In driving your carriage along,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you keep to the left, you are sure to go right,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If you keep to the right, you go wrong."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It would be a good thing if our present senseless laws were reversed in +this matter, and a few lives saved, and a few broken limbs prevented.</p> + +<p>When I took leave of my native country for a short sojourn in this +province, the great question then before the public was the invasion of +international law, by the British minister and a whole solar system of +British consuls. I had the pleasure of being a fellow exile on the +Canada with Mr. Crampton, Mr. Barclay, and Mr. ——, Her British +Majesty's representatives, and of course felt no little interest to know +the fate of the <i>Foreign Legion</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before I left Halifax, I learned some particulars of that famous flock +of jail birds. All that we knew, at home, was that a number of recruits +for the Crimea had been picked up in the streets and alleys of Columbia, +and carried, at an enormous expense, to Halifax, there to be enrolled. +And also, that as a mere cover to this infraction of the law of +Neutrality, the men were engaged as laborers, to work upon the public +improvements of Nova Scotia. The sequel of that enterprise remained to +be told. A majority of these recruits were Irishmen—some of them not +wanting in the mother wit of the race. So when they were gathered in the +great province building at Halifax, and Sir John Gaspard le Marchant, in +chapeau, feather and sword, came down to review his levies, with great +spirit and military pomp, "Well, my men," said he, "you are here to +enlist, eh, and serve Her Majesty?" To which the spokesman of the +Foreign Legion, fully understanding the beauty of his position, replied, +with a sly twinkle of the eye, "We didn't engage to 'list at all, at +all, but to wurruk on the railroad." Upon which Sir John Gaspard, seeing +that Her Majesty had been imposed upon, politely told the legion to go +to——Dante's Inferno.</p> + +<p>Now whether the place to which the Foreign Legion was consigned by Sir +John Gaspard, pos<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>sessed even less attractions than Halifax, or from +whatever reason soever, it chanced that the jolly boys, raked from our +alleys and jails, never stirred a foot out of the province; and while +the peace of the whole world was endangered by their abduction, as that +of Greece and Troy had been by the rape of Helen, they were quietly +enlisting in less warlike expeditions—in fact, engaging themselves to +work upon that great railroad, of which mention has been made +heretofore.</p> + +<p>Now we have seen something of the clannish propensities of the people of +the colonies, and the contractors knew what sort of material they had to +deal with. And, inasmuch as there was a pretty large group of +five-shilling Highlandmen, grading, levelling, and filling in one end of +a section of the road, the gang of Irishmen was placed at the opposite +end, as far from them as possible, which no doubt would have preserved +peaceful relations between the two, but for the fact, that as the work +progressed the hostile forces naturally approached each other. It was +towards the close of a summer evening, that the ground was broken by the +gentlemen of the shamrock, within sight of the shanties decorated with +the honorable order of the thistle. A lovely evening in the month of +June! Not with spumy cannon and prickly bayo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>nets, but with peaceful +spade and mattock, advanced the sons of St. Patrick towards the children +of a sister isle. Then did Roderick Dhu step forth from his shanty, and +inquire, in choice Gaelic, if a person named Brian Borheime was in the +ranks of the approaching forces. Then then did Brian Borheime advance, +spade in hand, and with a single spat of his implement level Roderick, +as though he had been a piece of turf. Then was Brian flattened out by +the spade of Vich Ian Vohr; and Vich Ian Vohr, by the spade of Captain +Rock. Then fell Captain Rock by the spade of Rob Roy; and Rob Roy smelt +the earth under the spade of Handy Andy. In a word, the fight became +general—the bagpipe blew to arms—Celt joined Celt, there was the tug +of war; but the sun set upon the lowered standard of the thistle, and +victory proclaimed Shamrock the conqueror. Several of the natives were +left for dead upon the field of battle, the triumphant Irish ran away, +to a man, to avoid the consequences, and I blush to say it, as I do to +record any act of heartless ingratitude, handbills were speedily posted +up by the order of government, offering a reward of ten pounds apiece +for the capture of certain members of the Foreign Legion, who had been +the ringleaders in the riot, which handbill was not only signed by that +seducer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> of soldiers, Sir John Gaspard le Marchant, but also ornamented +with the horn of the unicorn and the claws of the British lion.</p> + +<p>But there is a Nemesis even in Nova Scotia, for this riot produced +effects, unwonted and unlooked for. One of the prominent leaders in the +Nova Scotia Parliament, a gentleman distinguished both as an orator and +as a poet—the Hon. Joseph Howe, who had signalized himself as an +advocate of the right of Her Majesty to recruit for the Crimea in the +streets of Columbia, and was ready to pit the British Lion against the +American Eagle in support of that right, fell by the very legion he had +been so zealous to create. The Hon. Joseph Howe, M. P., by the support +of the Irish population, could always command a <i>popular</i> majority and +keep his seat in the house, so long as he maintained his loyalty to this +votive class of citizens. But, unfortunately, Hon. Joseph Howe, in +alluding to the riot, took the Scotch side of the broil. This was +sufficient. At the election following he was a defeated candidate, and +politely advised to retire to private life. Thus was the Hon. J. H. +"hoist by his own petard," the first man to fall by this expensive +military company.</p> + +<p>An adventure upon the Shubenacadie brought one of these heroes into +prominent relief. After<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> we had parted from pleasant Truro, at every +nook and corner of the road, there seemed to be a passenger waiting for +the Halifax coach. So that the top of the vehicle was soon filled with +dusty fellow-travellers, and Jeangros was getting to be a little +impatient. Just as we turned into the densest part of the forest, where +the evening sun was most obscured by the close foliage, we saw two men, +one decorated with a pair of handcuffs, and the other armed with a brace +of pistols. The latter hailed the coach.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye want?" quoth Jeangros, drawing up by the roadside.</p> + +<p>"Government prisoner," said the man with the pistols.</p> + +<p>"What the —— is government prisoner to me?" quoth Jeangros.</p> + +<p>"I want to take him to Dartmouth," said the tall policeman.</p> + +<p>"Then take him there," said our jolly driver, shaking up the leaders.</p> + +<p>"Hold up," shouted out the tall policeman, "I will pay his fare."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you say so, then?" replied Jeangros, full of the dignity of +his position as driver of H. B. M. Mail-coach, before whose tin horn +everything must get out of the way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a doubt which was the drunkenest, the officer or the prisoner. +We found out afterwards that the officer had conciliated his captive +with drink, partly to keep him friendly in case of an attempted rescue, +and partly to get him in such a state that running away would be +impracticable. And, indeed, there would have been a great race if the +prisoner had attempted to escape. The prisoner too drunk to run—the +officer too drunk to pursue.</p> + +<p>The pair had scarcely crawled up among the luggage upon the stage-top, +before there was an outcry from the passengers on the box in +front—"Uncock your pistols! uncock your pistols!" for the officer had +dropped his fire-arms, cocked and capped, upon the top of our coach, +with the muzzles pointed towards us. And indeed I may affirm here, that +I never saw metallic cylinders with more menacing aspect, than those +which lay quietly behind us, ready to explode—unconscious instruments +as they were—and carry any of the party into the next world upon the +slightest lurch of the stage-coach.</p> + +<p>"Uncock your pistols," said the passengers.</p> + +<p>But the officer, in the mellifluous dialect of his mother country, +replied that "He'd be —— if he would. Me prishner," said he, "me +prishner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> might escape; or, the divil knows but there might be a rescue +come to him, for there's a good many of the same hereabouts."</p> + +<p>It struck me that no person upon the top of the stage-coach was so +particularly interested in this dispute as the member of the Foreign +Legion, who was on his way either to the gallows or a perpetual prison. +I observed that he nervously twitched at his handcuffs, perhaps—as I +thought—to prepare for escape in case of an explosion; or else to be +ready for the rescue; or else to take advantage of his captor, the tall +policeman—jump from the stage, and run for dear life and liberty. Never +was I more mistaken. True to his race, and to tradition, Pat was only +striving to free himself from the leather shackles, in order to fight +any man who was an enemy to his friend the policeman, and the pistols, +that were cocked to shoot himself. But had not poor Paddy made such +blunders in all times? The hubbub increased, a terrific contest was +impending; the travellers below poked their heads out of the windows; +there was every prospect of a catastrophe of some kind, when suddenly +Jeangros rose to his feet, and said, in a voice clear and sharp through +the tumult as an electric flash through a storm, "<i>Uncock those pistols, +or I will throw you from the top of the coach!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a pause instantly, and we heard the sharp click of the cocks, +as they were lowered in obedience to the little stage-driver. It had a +wonderful power of command, that voice—soft and clear, but brief, +decisive, authoritative.</p> + +<p>It is quite interesting to ride fellow-passenger with a person who has +played a part in the national drama, but more villainous face I never +saw. Mr. Crampton, with whom I sailed on the Canada, had a much more +amiable expression; indeed I think we should all be obliged to him for +ridding us of at least a portion of his fellow-countrymen.</p> + +<p>But now we ride by the Shubenacadie lakes, a chain—a bracelet—binding +the province from the Basin of Minas to the seaboard. The eye never +tires of this lovely feature of Acadia. Lake above lake—the division, +the isthmus between, not wider than the breadth of your India shawl, my +lady! I must declare that, all in all, the scenery of the province is +surpassingly beautiful. As you ride by these sparkling waters, through +the flowery, bowery, woods, you feel as if you like to pitch tent +here—at least for the summer.</p> + +<p>And now we approach a rustic inn by the roadside, rich in shrubbery +before it, and green moss from ridge-pole to low drooping eaves, where +we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> change horses. And as we rest here upon the wooden inn-porch, +dismounted from our high perch on the stage-coach, we see right above us +against the clear evening sky, Her Majesty's <i>ci-devant</i> partisan, now +prisoner—by merit raised to that bad eminence. The officer hands him a +glass of brandy, to keep up his spirits. The prisoner takes it, and, +lifting the glass high in air, shouts out with the exultation of a +fiend:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Here's to the hinges of liberty—may they never want oil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor an Orangeman's bones in a pot for to boil."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Once more upon the stage to Dartmouth, where we deposit our precious +fellow-travellers, and then to the ferry, and look you! across the +harbor, the twinkling lights of dear old mouldy Halifax. And now we are +crossing Chebucto, and the cab carries us again to our former quarters +in the Hotel Waverley.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Halifax again—Hotel Waverley—"Gone the Old Familiar Faces"—The Story +of Marie de la Tour.</p> + +<p>Again in old quarters! It is strange how we become attached to a place, +be it what it may, if we only have known it before. The same old room we +occupied years ago, however comfortless then, has a familiar air of +welcome now. There is surely some little trace of self, some unseen +spider-thread of attachment clinging to the walls, the old chair, the +forlorn wash-stand, and the knobby four-poster, that holds the hardest +of beds, the most consumptive of pillows, and a bolster as round, as +white, and as hard, as a cathedral mass-candle. Heigho, Hotel Waverley! +Here am I again; but where are the familiar faces? Where the brave +soldier of Inkerman and Balaklava? Where the jolly old Captain of the +native rifles? Where the Colonel, with his little meerschaum pipe he was +so intent upon coloring? Where the party of salmon-fishermen, the +Solomons of piscatology? Where the passengers by the "Canada?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> And +where is Picton? Gone, like last year's birds!</p> + +<p>"A glass of ale, Henry, and one cigar, only <i>one</i>; I wish to be +solitary."</p> + +<p>I like this bed-room of mine at the Waverley, with its blue and white +striped curtain at the window, through which the gas-lights of Halifax +streets appear in lucid spots, as I wait for Henry, with the candles. +Now I am no longer alone. I shut my chamber door, as it were, upon one +world, only that I may enjoy another. So I trim the candles, and spread +out the writing materials, and at once the characters of two centuries +ago awake, and their life to me is as the life of to-day.</p> + +<p>There is nothing more captivating in literature, than the narrative of +some heroic deed of woman. Very few such are recorded; how many might +be, if the actors themselves had not shunned notoriety, and "uncommended +died," rather than encounter the ordeal of public praise? Of such the +poet has written:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And waste its sweetness on the desert air."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Of such, many have lived and died, to live again only in fiction; +whereas their own true histories would have been greater than the +inventions of authors. We read of heroes laden with the "glit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span>tering +spoils of empire," but the heroic deeds of woman are oftentimes, all in +all, as great, without the glitter; without the pomp and pageantry of +triumphal processions; without the pealing trumpet of renown. Boadicea, +chained to the car of Suetonius, is the too common memorial of heroic +womanity.</p> + +<p>The story I relate is but a transcript, a mere episode in the sad +history of Acadia: yet the record will be pleasing to those who estimate +the merits of brave women. This, then, is the legend of</p> + +<p class="center">MARIE DE LA TOUR.</p> + +<p>In the year 1621, Sir William Alexander, afterwards Earl of Sterling,<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> +a romantic poet, and favorite of King James I., was presented by that +monarch with a patent to all the land known as Acadia, in the Americas. +Royalty in those days made out its parchment deeds for a province, +without taking the trouble to search the record office, to see if there +were any prior liens upon the territory. The good old rule obtained +thus—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"That they may take who have the power,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they may keep who can."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>or, to quote the words of another writer—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"For the time once was here, to all be it known,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all a man sailed by or saw was his own."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is due to Sir William Alexander to say that he gave the province the +proud name which at present it enjoys, of Nova Scotia, or New Scotland, +a title much more appropriate than that of "Acadia,"<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> which to us +means nothing.</p> + +<p>At this time the French Colony was slowly recovering from the effects of +the Argall expedition, that eight years before had laid waste its fair +possessions. Among a number of emigrants from the Loire and the Seine, +two gentlemen of birth and education, La Tour by name, father and son, +set out to seek their fortunes in the New World. It must be remembered +that in the original patent of Acadia, given by Henry IV. to De Monts, +freedom of religious opinion was one of the conditions of the grant, and +therefore the fact, that both the La Tours were Huguenots, did not +prevent them holding commissions under the French crown, the father +having in charge a small fleet of transports then ready to sail from the +harbor of Brest; the son,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> being the commander of a fort and garrison at +Cape Sable, upon the western end of Acadia.</p> + +<p>Affairs being in this condition, it chanced that the English and French +ships set sail for the same port, at about the same time; and it so +happened that Sir William Alexander's fleet running afoul of the elder +La Tour's in a fog, not only captured that gallant chieftain but also +his transports, munitions of war, stores, artillery, etc. etc., and +sailed back with the prizes to England. I beg you to observe, my dear +reader, that occurrences of this kind were common enough at this period +even in times of peace, and not considered piracy either, the ocean was +looked upon as a mighty chessboard, and the game was won by those who +could command the greatest number of pieces.</p> + +<p>Claude de la Tour, not as a prisoner of war, but as an enforced guest of +Sir William, was carried to London; and there robbed of his goods, but +treated like a gentleman; introduced at Court, although deprived of his +purse and liberty, and in a word, found himself surrounded with the most +hostile and hospitable conditions possible in life. It is not surprising +then that with true French philosophy he should have made the best of +it; gained the good will of the queen, played off a little <i>badinage</i> +with the ladies of the court, and forgetting the late Lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> de la Tour, +asleep in the old graveyard in the city of Rochelle, essayed to wear his +widower weeds with that union of grace and sentiment for which his +countrymen are so celebrated. The consequence was one of her majesty's +maids of honor fell in love with him; the queen encouraged the match; +the king had just instituted the new order of Knights Baronet, of Nova +Scotia; La Tour, now in the way of good fortune, was the first to be +honored with the novel title, and at the same time placed the +matrimonial ring upon the finger of the love-sick maid of honor. Indeed +Charles Etienne de la Tour, commandant of the little fort at Cape Sable, +had scarcely lost a father, before he had gained a step-mother.</p> + +<p>That the French widower should have been so captivated by these marks of +royal favor as to lose his discretion, in the fullness of his gratitude; +and, that after receiving a grant of land from his patron, as a further +incentive, he should volunteer to assist in bringing Acadia under the +British Crown, and as a primary step, undertake to reduce the Fort at +Cape Sable; I say, that when I state this, nobody will be surprised, +except a chosen few, who cherish some old-fashioned notions, in these +days more romantic than real. "Two ships of war being placed under his +command," he set sail, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> his guns and a Step-mother, to attack the +Fort at Cape Sable. The latter was but poorly garrisoned; but then it +contained a Daughter-in-law! Under such circumstances, it was plain to +be seen that the contest would be continued to the last ounce of powder.</p> + +<p>Opening the trenches before the French fort, and parading his Scotch +troops in the eyes of his son, the elder La Tour attempted to capture +the garrison by argument. In vain he "boasted of the reception he had +met with in England, of his interest at court, and the honor of +knighthood which had been conferred upon him." In vain he represented +"the advantages that would result from submission," the benefits of +British patronage; and paraded before the eyes of the young commander +the parchment grant, the seal, the royal autograph, and the glittering +title of Knight Baronet, which had inspired his perfidy. His son, +shocked and indignant, declined the proffered honors and emoluments that +were only to be gained by an act of treason; and intimated his intention +"to defend the Fort with his life, sooner than deliver it up to the +enemies of his country." The father used the most earnest entreaties, +the most touching and parental arguments. Charles Etienne was proof +against these. The Baronet alluded to the large force<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> under his +command, and deplored the necessity of making an assault, in case his +propositions were rejected. Charles Etienne only doubled his sentinels, +and stood more firmly intrenched upon his honor. Then the elder La Tour +ordered an assault. For two days the storm continued; sometimes the +Mother-in-law led the Scotch soldiers to the breach, but the French +soldiers, under the Daughter-in-law, drove them back with such bitter +fury, that of the assailants it was hard to say which numbered most, the +living or the dead. At last, La Tour the elder abandoned the siege; and +"ashamed to appear in England, afraid to appear in France," accepted the +humiliating alternative of requesting an asylum from his son. Permission +to reside in the neighborhood was granted by Charles Etienne. The Scotch +troops were reëmbarked for England; and the younger and the elder Mrs. +de la Tour smiled at each other grimly from the plain and from the +parapet. Further than this there was no intercourse between the +families. Whenever Marie de la Tour sent the baby to grandmother, it +went with a troop of cavalry and a flag of truce; and whenever Lady de +la Tour left her card at the gate, the drums beat, and the guard turned +out with fixed bayonets.</p> + +<p>Such discipline had prepared Marie de la Tour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> for the heroic part which +afterwards raised her to the historical position she occupies in the +chronicles of Acadia. I have had occasion to speak of freedom of opinion +existing in this Province—but for the invasion of English and Scotch +filibusters, this absolute liberty of faith would have produced the +happiest fruits in the new colonies. But unfortunately in a weak and +newly-settled country, union in all things is an indispensable condition +of existence. This very liberty of opinion, in a great measure +disintegrated the early French settlements, and separated a people which +otherwise might have encountered successfully its rapacious enemies.</p> + +<p>At this time the French Governor of Acadia, Razillia, died. Charles +Etienne la Tour as a subordinate officer, had full command of the +eastern part of the province, as the Chevalier d'Aulney de Charnisé, had +of the western portion, extending as far as the Penobscot. As for the +Sterling patent, Sir William, finding it of little value, had sold it to +the elder La Tour, but the defeated adventurer of Cape Sable by the +treaty of St. Germains in 1632, was stripped of his new possessions by +King Charles I., who conveyed the whole of the territory again to Louis +XIII. of France. Thus it will be seen, that two claimants only were in +possession of Acadia; namely, the younger La Tour and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> D'Aulney. The +elder La Tour now retires from the scene, goes to England with his wife, +and is heard of no more.</p> + +<p>Between the rival commanders in Acadia, there were certain points of +resemblance—both were youthful, both were brave, enterprising and +ambitious, both the happy husbands of proud and beautiful wives. +Otherwise La Tour was a Huguenot and D'Aulney a Catholic—thus it will +be seen that the latter had the most favor at the French court, while +the former could more securely count upon the friendship of the English +of Massachusetts Bay—no inconsiderable allies as affairs then stood. +Under such circumstances, it is not to be wondered at that there was a +constant feud between the two young officers, and their young wives. The +chronicles of the Pilgrims, the records of Bradford, Winthrop, Mather, +and Hutchinson, are full of the exploits of these pugnacious heroes. At +one time La Tour appears in person at Boston, to beat up recruits, as +more than two hundred years after, another power attempted to raise a +foreign legion, and, although the pilgrim fathers do not officially +sanction the proceeding, yet they connive at it, and quote Scripture to +warrant them. Close upon this follows a protest of D'Aulney, and with it +the exhibition of a warrant from the French<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> king for the arrest of La +Tour. Upon this there is a meeting of the council and a treaty, +offensive and defensive, made with D'Aulney.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Marie de la Tour arrived at Boston from England, where she +had been on a visit to her mother-in-law. The captain of the vessel upon +which she had reëmbarked for the new world, having carried her to this +city instead of to the river St. John, according to the letter of the +charter, was promptly served with a summons by that lady to appear +before the magistrates to show cause why he did it; and the consequence +was, madame recovered damages to the amount of two thousand pounds in +the Marine Court of the Modern Athens. With this sum in her pocket, she +chartered a vessel for the river St. John, and arrived at a small fort +belonging to her husband, on its banks, just in time to defend it +against D'Aulney, who had rallied his forces for an attack upon it, +during the absence of Charles Etienne.</p> + +<p>Marie de la Tour at this time was one of the most beautiful women in the +new world. She was not less than twenty, nor more than thirty years of +age; her features had a charm beyond the limits of the regular; her eyes +were expressive; her mouth intellectual; her complexion brown and clear, +could pale or flush with emotions either tender or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> indignant. Before +such a commandress D'Aulney de Charnisé set down his forces in the year +1644.</p> + +<p>The garrison was small—the brave Charles Etienne absent in a distant +part of the province. But the unconquerable spirit of the woman +prevailed over these disadvantages. At the first attack by D'Aulney, the +guns of the fort were directed with such consummate skill that every +shot told. The besieger, with twenty killed and thirteen wounded, was +only too happy to warp his frigate out of the leach of this lovely +lady's artillery, and retire to Penobscot to refit for further +operations. Again D'Aulney sailed up the St. John, with the intention of +taking the place by assault. By land as by water, his forces were +repulsed with great slaughter. A host of Catholic soldiers fell before a +handful of Protestant guns, which was not surprising, as the cannon were +well pointed, and loaded with grape and canister. For three days the +French officer carried on the attack, and then again retreated. On the +fourth day a Swiss hireling deserted to the enemy and betrayed the +weakness of the garrison. D'Aulney, now confident of success, determined +to take the fort by storm; but as he mounted the wall, the lovely La +Tour, at the head of her little garrison, met the besiegers with such +determined bravery, that again they were repulsed. That evening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +D'Aulney hung the traitorous Swiss, and proposed honorable terms, if the +brave commandress would surrender. To these terms Marie assented, in the +vain hope of saving the lives of the brave men who had survived; the +remnants of her little garrison. But the perfidious D'Aulney, who, from +the vigorous defence of the fort, had supposed the number of soldiers to +have been greater, instead of feeling that admiration which brave men +always experience when acts of valor are presented by an enemy, lost +himself in an abyss of chagrin, to find he had been thrice defeated by a +garrison so contemptible in numbers, and led by a <i>female</i>. To his +eternal infamy let it be recorded, that pretending to have been deceived +by the terms of capitulation, D'Aulney hanged the brave survivors of the +garrison, and even had the baseness and cruelty to parade Madame de la +Tour herself on the same scaffold, with the ignominious cord around her +neck, as a reprieved criminal.</p> + +<p>To quote the words of the chronicler: "The violent and unusual exertions +which Madame la Tour had made, the dreadful fate of her household and +followers, and the total wreck of his fortune, had such an effect that +she died soon after this event."</p> + +<p>So perished the beautiful, the brave, the faithful,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> the unfortunate! +Shall I add that her besieger, D'Aulney, died soon after, leaving a +bereaved but blooming widow? That Charles Etienne la Tour, to prevent +further difficulties in the province, laid siege to that sad and +sympathizing lady, not with flag and drum, shot and shell, but with the +more effectual artillery of love? That Madame D'Aulney finally +surrendered, and that Charles Etienne was wont to say to her, after the +wedding: "Beloved, <i>your</i> husband and <i>my</i> wife have had their pitched +battle, but let <i>us</i> live in peace for the rest of our days, my dear."</p> + +<p>Quaint, old, mouldy Halifax seems more attractive after re-writing this +portion of its early history. The defence of that little fort, with its +slender garrison, by Madame la Tour, against the perfidious Charnisé, +brings to mind other instances of female heroism, peculiar to the French +people. It recalls the achievements of Joan of Arc, and Charlotte +Corday. Not less, than these, in the scale of intrepid valor, are those +of Marie de la Tour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Bedford Basin—Legend of the two French Admirals—An Invitation to the +Queen—Visit to the Prince's Lodge—A Touch of Old England—The Ruins.</p> + +<p>The harbor of Chebucto, after stretching inland far enough to make a +commodious and beautiful site for the great city of Halifax, true to the +fine artistic taste peculiar to all bodies of water in the province, +penetrates still further in the landscape, and broadens out into a +superb land-locked lake, called Bedford Basin. The entrance to this +basin is very narrow, and it has no other outlet. Oral tradition +maintains that about a century ago a certain French fleet, lying in the +harbor, surprised by the approach of a superior body of English +men-of-war in the offing, weighed anchor and sailed up through this +narrow estuary into the basin itself, deceived by seeing so much water +there, and believing it to be but a twin harbor through which they could +escape again to the open sea. And further, that the French Admiral +finding himself caught in this net with no chance of escape, drew his +sword, and placing the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> hilt upon the deck of his vessel, fell upon the +point of the weapon, and so died.</p> + +<p>This tradition is based partly upon fact; its epoch is one of the most +interesting in the history of this province, and probably the turning +point in the affairs of the whole northern continent. The suicide was an +officer high in rank, the Duke d'Anville, who in 1746, after the first +capture of Louisburgh, sailed from Brest with the most formidable fleet +that had ever crossed the Atlantic, to re-take this famous fortress; +then to re-take Annapolis, next to destroy Boston, and finally to +<i>visit</i> the West Indies. But his squadron being dispersed by tempestuous +weather, he arrived in Chebucto harbor with but a few ships, and not +finding any of the rest of his fleet there, was so affected by this and +other disasters on the voyage, that he destroyed himself. So says the +<i>London Chronicle</i> of August 24th, 1758, from which I take this account. +The French say he died of apoplexy, the English by poison. At all +events, he was buried in a little island in the harbor, after a defeat +by the elements of as great an armament as that of the Spanish Armada. +Some idea of the disasters of this voyage may be formed from one fact, +that from the time of the sailing of the expedition from Brest until its +arrival at Chebucto,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> no less than 1,270 men died on the way from the +plague. Many of the ships arriving after this sad occurrence, +Vice-Admiral Destournelle endeavored to fulfill the object of the +mission, and even with his crippled forces essay to restore the glory of +France in the western hemisphere. But he being overruled by a council of +war, plucked out his sword, and followed his commander, the Duke +d'Anville. What might have come of it, had either admiral again planted +the <i>fleur de lis</i> upon the bastions of Louisburgh?</p> + +<p>But to return to the to-day of to-day. Bedford Basin is now rapidly +growing in importance. The great Nova Scotia railway skirts the margin +of its storied waters, and already suburban villas for Haligonian +Sparrowgrasses, are being erected upon its banks.</p> + +<p>I was much amused one morning, upon opening one of the Halifax papers, +to find in its columns a most warm and hearty invitation from the editor +to her majesty, Queen Victoria, soliciting her to visit the province, +which, according to the editorial phraseology, would be, no doubt, as +interesting as it was endeared to her, as the former residence of her +gracious father, the Duke of Kent.</p> + +<p>In the year 1798, just twenty years before her present majesty was born, +the young Prince<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> Edward was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the forces +in British North America. Loyalty, then as now, was rampant in Nova +Scotia, and upon the arrival of his Royal Highness, among other marks of +compliment, an adjacent island, that at present rejoices in a governor +and parliament of its own, was re-christened with the name it now bears, +namely—Prince Edward's Island. But I am afraid Prince Edward was a sad +reprobate in those days—at least, such is the record of tradition.</p> + +<p>The article in the newspaper reminded me that somewhere upon Bedford +Basin were the remains of the "Prince's Lodge;" so one afternoon, +accompanied by a dear old friend, I paid this royal bower by Bendemeer's +stream, a visit. Rattling through the unpaved streets of Halifax in a +one horse vehicle, called, for obvious reasons, a "jumper," we were soon +on the high-road towards the basin. Water of the intensest +blue—hill-slopes, now cultivated, and anon patched with evergreens that +look as black as squares upon a chess board, between the open, broken +grounds—a fine road—a summer sky—an atmosphere spicy with whiffs of +resinous odors, and no fog,—these are the features of our ride. Yonder +is a red building, reflected in the water like the prison of Chillon, +where some of our citizens were imprisoned during the war of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> 1812—ship +captives doubtless! And here is the customary little English inn, where +we stop our steed to let him cool, while the stout landlord, girt with a +clean white apron, brings out to his thirsty travellers a brace of +foaming, creamy glasses of "right h'English h'ale." Then remounting the +jumper, we skirt the edge of the basin again, until a stately dome rises +up before us on the road, which, as we approach, we see is supported by +columns, and based upon a gentle promontory overhanging the water. This +is the "Music House," where the Prince's band were wont to play in days +"lang syne." Here we stop, and leaving our jumper in charge of a farmer, +stroll over the grounds.</p> + +<p>That peculiar arrangement of lofty trees, sweeping lawns, and graceful +management of water, which forms the prevailing feature of English +landscape gardening, was at once apparent. Although there were no trim +walks, green hedges, or beds of flowers; although the whole place was +ruined and neglected, yet the magic touch of art was not less visible to +the practised eye. The art that concealed art, seemed to lend a charm to +the sweet seclusion, without intruding upon or disturbing the intentions +of nature.</p> + +<p>Proceeding up the gentle slope that led from the gate, a number of +columbines and rose-bushes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> scattered in wild profusion, indicated where +once had been the Prince's garden. These, although now in bloom and +teeming with flowers, have a vagrant, neglected air, like beauties that +had ran astray, never to be reclaimed. A little further we come upon the +ruins of a spacious mansion, and beyond these the remains of the +library, with its tumbled-down bricks and timbers, choking up the stream +that wound through the vice-regal domains: and here the bowling-green, +yet fresh with verdure; here the fishing pavilion, leaning over an +artificial lake, with an artificial island in the midst; and here are +willows, and deciduous trees, planted by the Prince; and other +rose-bushes and columbines scattered in wild profusion. I could not but +admire the elegance and grace, which, even now, were so apparent, amid +the ruins of the lodge, nor could I help recalling those earlier days, +when the red-coats clustered around the gates, and the grounds were +sparkling with lamps at night; when the band from the music-house woke +the echoes with the clash of martial instruments, and the young Prince, +with his gay gallants, and his powdered, patched, and painted Jezebels, +held his brilliant court, with banner, music, and flotilla; with the +array of soldiery, and the pageantry of ships-of-war, on Bedford Basin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>I stood by the ruins of a little stone bridge, which had once spanned +the sparkling brook, and led to the Prince's library; I saw, far and +near, the flaunting flowers of the now abandoned garden, and the distant +columns of the silent music house, and I felt sad amid the desolation, +although I knew not why. For wherefore should any one feel sad to see +the temples of dissipation laid in the dust? For my own part, I am a +poor casuist, but nevertheless, I do not think my conscience will suffer +from this feeling. There is a touch of humanity in it, and always some +germ of sympathy will bourgeon and bloom around the once populous abodes +of men, whether they were tenanted by the pure or by the impure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Last Night—Farewell Hotel Waverley—Friends Old and New—What +followed the Marriage of La Tour le Borgne—Invasion of Col. Church.</p> + +<p>Faint nebulous spots in the air, little red disks in a halo of fog, +acquaint us that there are gas-lights this night in the streets of +Halifax. Something new, I take it, this illumination? Carbonated +hydrogen is a novelty as yet in Chebucto. But in this soft and pleasant +atmosphere, I cannot but feel some regret at leaving my old quarters in +the Hotel Waverley. If I feel how much there is to welcome me elsewhere, +yet I do not forsake this queer old city—these strange, dingy, +weather-beaten streets, without reluctance; and chiefly I feel that now +I must separate from some old friends, and from some new ones too, whom +I can ill spare. And if any of these should ever read this little book, +I trust they will not think the less of me because of it. If the salient +features of the province have sometimes appeared to me, a stranger, a +trifle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> distorted, it may be that my own stand-point is defective. And +so farewell! To-morrow I shall draw nearer homeward, by Windsor and the +shores of the Gasperau, by Grand-Pré and the Basin of Minas. Candles, +Henry! and books!</p> + +<p>The marriage of La Tour to the widow of his deceased rival, for a time +enabled that brave young adventurer to remain in quiet possession of the +territory. But to the Catholic Court of France, a suspected although not +an avowed Protestant, in commission, was an object of distrust. No +matter what might have been his former services, indeed, his defence of +Cape Sable had saved the French possessions from the encroachments of +the Sterling patent, yet he was heretic to the true faith, and therefore +defenceless in an important point against the attacks of an enemy. Such +a one was La Tour le Borgne, who professed to be a creditor of D'Aulney, +and pressing his suit with all the ardor of bigotry and rapacity, easily +succeeded in "obtaining a decree by which he was authorized to enter +upon the possessions of his <i>deceased debtor</i>!" But the adherents of +Charles Etienne did not readily yield to the new adventurer. They had +tasted the sweets of religious liberty, and were not disposed to come +within the arbitrary yoke without a struggle. Disregarding the "decree," +they stood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> out manfully against the forces of Le Borgne. Again were +Catholic French and Protestant French cannon pointed against each other +in unhappy Acadia. But fort after fort fell beneath the new claimant's +superior artillery, until La Tour le Borgne himself was met by a +counter-force of bigotry, before which his own was as chaff to the +fanning-mill. The man of England, Oliver Cromwell, had his little claim, +too, in Acadia. Against his forces both the French commanders made but +ineffectual resistance. Acadia for the third time fell into the hands of +the English.</p> + +<p>Now in the history of the world there is nothing more patent than this: +that persecution in the name of religion, is only a ring of calamities, +which ends sooner or later where it began. And this portion of its +history can be cited as an example. Charles Etienne de la Tour, +alienated by the unjust treatment of his countrymen, decided to accept +the protection of his national enemy. As the heir of Sir Claude de la +Tour, he laid claim to the Sterling grants (which it will be remembered +had been ceded to his father by Sir William Alexander after the +unsuccessful attack upon Cape Sable,) and in conjunction with two +English Puritans obtained a new patent for Acadia from the Protector, +under the great seal, with the title of Sir Charles La Tour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> Then Sir +Thomas Temple (one of the partners in the Cromwell patent) purchased the +interest of Charles Etienne in Acadia. Then came the restoration, and +again Acadia was restored to France by Charles II. in 1668. But Sir +Thomas having embarked all his fortune in the enterprise, was not +disposed to submit to the arbitrary disposal of his property by this +treaty; and therefore endeavored to evade its articles by making a +distinction between such parts of the province as were supposed to +constitute Acadia proper, and the other portions of the territory +comprehended under the title of Nova Scotia. "This distinction being +deemed frivolous," Sir Thomas was ordered to obey the letter of the +treaty, and accordingly the <i>whole of Nova Scotia</i> was delivered up to +the Chevalier de Grande Fontaine. During twenty years succeeding this +event, Acadia enjoyed comparative repose, subject only to occasional +visits of filibusters. At the expiration of that time, a more serious +invasion was meditated. Under the command of Sir William Phipps, a +native of New England, three ships, with transports and soldiers, +appeared before Port Royal, and demanded an unconditional surrender. +Although the fort was poorly garrisoned, this was refused by Manivel, +the French governor, but finally terms of capitulation were agreed upon: +these were, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> the French troops should be allowed to retain their +arms and baggage, and be carried to Quebec; that the inhabitants should +be maintained in the peaceable possession of their property, and in the +exercise of their religion; and that the honor of the women should be +observed. Sir William agreed to the conditions, but declined signing the +articles, pompously intimating that the "word of a general was a better +security than any document whatever." The French governor, deceived by +this specious parade of language, took the New England filibuster at his +word, and formally surrendered the keys of the fortress, according to +the verbal contract. Again was poor Acadia the victim of her perfidious +enemy. Sir William, disregarding the terms of the capitulation, and the +"word of a general," violated the articles he had pledged his honor to +maintain, disarmed and imprisoned the soldiers, sacked the churches, and +gave the place up to all the ruthless cruelties and violences of a +general pillage. Not only this, the too credulous Governor, Manivel, was +himself imprisoned, plundered of money and clothes, and carried off on +board the conqueror's frigate, with many of his unfortunate companions, +to view the further spoliations of his countrymen. Many a peaceful +Acadian village expired in flames during that coasting expedition, and +to add to the miseries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> of the defenceless Acadians, two <i>piratical</i> +vessels followed in the wake of the pious Sir William, and set fire to +the houses, slaughtered the cattle, hanged the inhabitants, and +deliberately burned up one whole family, whom they had shut in a +dwelling-house for that purpose.</p> + +<p>Soon after this, Sir William was rewarded with the governorship of New +England, as Argall had been with that of Virginia, nearly a century +before.</p> + +<p>Now let it be remembered that in these expeditions, very little, if any, +attempt was made by the invaders to colonize or reside on the lands they +were so ready to lay waste and destroy. The mind of the species +"Puritan," by rigid discipline hardened against all frivolous +amusements, and insensible to the charms of the drama, and the splendors +of the mimic spectacle, with its hollow shows of buckram, tinsel, and +pasteboard, seems to have been peculiarly fitted to enjoy these more +substantial enterprises, which, owing to the defenceless condition of +the French province, must have appeared to the rigid Dudleys and +Endicotts merely as a series of light and elegant pastimes.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had Sir William Phipps returned to Boston, when the Chevalier +Villabon came from France with troops and implements of war. On his +arrival, he found the British flag flying at Port<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> Royal, unsupported by +an English garrison. It was immediately lowered from the flag-staff, the +white flag of Louis substituted, and once more Acadia was under the +dominion of her parental government.</p> + +<p>Villabon, in a series of petty skirmishes, soon recovered the rest of +the territory, which was only occupied at a few points by feeble New +England garrisons, and, in conjunction with a force of Abenaqui Indians, +laid siege to the fort at Pemaquid, on the Penobscot, and captured it. +In this affair, as we have seen, the famous Baron Castine was engaged.</p> + +<p>The capture of the fort at Pemaquid, led to a train of reprisals, +conspicuous in which was an actor in the theatre of events who +heretofore had not appeared upon the Acadian stage. This was Col. +Church, a celebrated bushwhacker and Indian-fighter, of memorable +account in the King Philip war.</p> + +<p>In order to estimate truly the condition of the respective parties, we +must remember the severe iron and gunpowder nature of the Puritan of New +England, his prejudices, his dyspepsia; his high-peaked hat and ruff; +his troublesome conscience and catarrh; his natural antipathies to +Papists and Indians, from having been scalped by one, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> roasted by +both; his English insolence; and his religious bias, at once tyrannic +and territorial.</p> + +<p>Then, on the other, we must call to view the simple Acadian peasant, +Papist or Protestant, just as it happened; ignorant of the great events +of the world; a mere offshoot of rural Normandy; without a thought of +other possessions than those he might reclaim from the sea by his dykes; +credulous, pure-minded, patient of injuries; that like the swallow in +the spring, thrice built the nest, and when again it was destroyed,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">——"found the ruin wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, not cast down, forth from the place it flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with its mate fresh earth and grasses brought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And built the nest anew."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Against such people, the expedition of Col. Church, fresh from the +slaughter of Pequod wars, bent its merciless energies. Regardless of the +facts that the people were non-resistants; that the expeditions of the +French had been only feeble retaliations of great injuries; and always +by levies from the mother country, and not from the colonists; that +Villabon, at the capture of Pemaquid, had generously saved the lives of +the soldiers in the garrison from the fury of the Mic-Macs, who had just +grounds of retribution for the massacres which had marked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> the former +inroads of these ruthless invaders; the wrath of the Pilgrim Fathers +fell upon the unfortunate Acadians as though they had been a nation of +Sepoys.<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a></p> + +<p>One of the severest cruelties practised upon these inoffensive people, +was that of requiring them to betray their friends, the Indians, under +the heaviest penalties. In Acadia, the red and the white man were as +brothers; no treachery, no broken faith, no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> over-reaching policy had +severed the slightest fibre of good fellowship on either side. But the +Abenaqui race was a warlike people. At the first invasion, under Argall, +the red man had seen with surprise a mere handful of white men disputing +for a territory to which neither could offer a claim; so vast as to make +either occupation or control by the adventurers ridiculous; and +therefore, with good-natured zeal, he had hastened to put an end to the +quarrel, as though the white people had only been fractious but not +irreconcilable kinsmen. But as the power of New England advanced more +and more in Acadia, the first generous desire of the red man had merged +into suspicion, and finally hatred of the peaked hat and ruff of +Plymouth. In all his dealings with the Acadians, the Indian had found +only unimpeachable faith and honor; but with the colonist of +Massachusetts, there had been nothing but over-reaching and treachery: +intercourse with the first had not led to a scratch, or a single drop of +blood; while on the other hand a bounty of "one hundred pounds was +offered for each male of their tribe if over twelve years of age, if +scalped; one hundred and five pounds if taken prisoner; fifty pounds for +each <i>woman and child scalped</i>, and fifty pounds when brought in alive."</p> + +<p>The Abenaqui tribes therefore, first, to avenge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> the injuries of their +unresisting friends, the Acadians, and after to avenge their own, waged +war upon the invaders with all the severities of an aggrieved and +barbarous people. And, as I have said before, the severest cruelty +inflicted upon the Acadian colonist, was to oblige him to betray his +best friend and protector, the painted heathen, with whom he struck +hands and plighted faith. To the honor of these colonists, be it said, +that although they saw their long years' labor of dykes broken down, the +sea sweeping over their farms, the fire rolling about their homesteads, +their cattle and sheep destroyed, their effects plundered, and wanton +and nameless outrages committed by the English and Yankee soldiery, yet +in no instance did they purchase indemnity from these, by betraying a +single Indian.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">A few more Threads of History—Acadia again lost—The Oath of +Allegiance—Settlement of Halifax—The brave Three Hundred—Massacre at +Norridgewoack—Le Père Ralle.</p> + +<p>During the invasion of Col. Church, the inhabitants of Grand-Pré were +exposed to such treatment as may be conceived of. The smoke from the +borders of the five rivers, overlooked by Blomidon, rose in the stilly +air, and again the sea rolled past the broken dykes, which for nearly a +century had kept out its desolating waters between the Cape and the +Gasperau. Driven to despair, a few of the younger Acadians took up arms +to defend their hearthstones, but the great body of the people submitted +without resistance. A brief stand was made at Port Royal, but this last +outpost finally capitulated. By the terms of the articles agreed upon, +the inhabitants were to have the privilege of remaining upon their +estates for two years, upon taking an oath of allegiance to remain +faithful to her majesty, Queen Anne, during that period. Upon that +consideration, those who lived <i>within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> cannon-shot</i> of the fort, were +to be protected in their rights and properties. This was but a piece of +<i>finesse</i> on the part of the invaders, an entering wedge, as it were, of +a novel kind of tyranny, namely, that inasmuch as those within +cannon-shot had taken the oath of allegiance, those without the reach of +artillery, at Port Royal, also, were bound to do the same. And a strong +detachment of New England troops, under Captain Pigeon, was sent upon an +expedition to enforce the arbitrary oath. But Captain Pigeon, in the +pursuit of his duty, fell in with an enemy of a less gentle nature than +the Acadians. A body of Abenaqui came down upon him and his men, and +smote them hip and thigh, even as the three hundred warriors of Israel +smote the Midianites in the valley of Moreh. Then was there temporary +relief in the land until the year 1713, when by a treaty Acadia was +formally surrendered to England. The weight of the oath of allegiance +now fell heavily upon the innocent colonists. We can scarcely appreciate +the abhorrence of a people, so conscientious as this, to take an oath of +fidelity to a race that had only been known to them by its rapacity. But +partly by persuasion, partly by menace, a majority of the Acadians took +the oath, which was as follows:</p> + +<p>"<i>Je promets et jure sincèrement, en foi de Chré<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span>tien, que je serai +entièrement fidèle et obéirai vraiment sa Majesté le roi George, que je +reconnaias pour le Souverain seigneur de l'Acadie, ou Nouvelle Ecosse, +ainsi Dieu me soit en aide</i>."</p> + +<p>Under the shadow of the protection derived from their acceptance of this +oath, the Acadians reposed a few years. It did not oblige them to bear +arms against their countrymen, nor did it compromise their religious +independence of faith. Again the dykes were built to resist the +encroachments of the sea; again village after village arose—at the +mouth of the Gasperau, on the shores of the Canard, beside the Strait of +Frontenac, at Le Have, and Rossignol, at Port Royal and Pisiquid. During +all these years no attempt had been made by the captors of this +province, to colonize the places baptized with the waters of Puritan +progress. Lunenburgh was settled with King William's Dutchmen; the walls +of Louisburgh were rising in one of the harbors of a neighboring island; +but in no instance had the filibusters projected a <i>colony</i> on the soil +which had been wrested from its rightful owners. The only result of all +their bloody visitations upon a non-resisting people, had been to make +defenceless Acadia a neutral province. From this time until the close of +the drama, in all the wars between the Georges and the Louises, in both +hemi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>spheres, the people of Acadia went by the name of "The Neutral +French."</p> + +<p>Meantime the walls of Louisburgh were rising on the island of Cape +Breton, which, with Canada, still remained under the sovereign rule of +the French. The Acadians were invited to remove within the protection of +this formidable fortress, but they preferred remaining intrenched behind +their dykes, firmly believing that the only invader they had now to +dread was the sea, inasmuch as they had accepted the oath of fidelity, +in which, and in their inoffensive pursuits, they imagined themselves +secure from farther molestation. Some of their Indian neighbors, +however, accepted the invitation of the Cape Breton French, and removed +thither. These simple savages, notwithstanding the changes in the +government, still regarded the Acadians as friends, and the English as +enemies. They could not comprehend the nature of a treaty by which their +own lands were ceded to a hostile force; a treaty in which they were +neither consulted nor considered.<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> They had their own injuries to +remember, which in no wise had been balanced in the compact of the +strangers. The rulers in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> New France (so says the chronicler) "affected +to consider the Indians as an independent people." At Canseau, at Cape +Sable, at Annapolis, and Passamaquoddy, English forts, fishing stations, +and vessels were attacked and destroyed by the savages with all the +circumstances that make up the hideous features of barbaric reprisal. +Unhappy Acadia came in for her share of condemnation. Although her +innocent people had no part in these transactions, yet her missionaries +had converted the Abenaqui to faith in the symbol of the crucifixion, +and it was currently reported and credited in New England, that they had +taught the savages to believe also the English were the people who had +crucified our Saviour. To complicate matters again, the Chevalier de St. +George (of whom there is no recollection except that he was anonymous, +both as a prince, and as a man) sent his son, the fifth remove in +stupidity, of the most stupid line of monarchs (not even excepting the +Georges) that ever wore crowns, to stir up an insurrection among the +most obtuse race of people that ever wore, or went without, breeches. A +war between France and England followed the descent of the Pretender. A +war naturally followed in the Colonies.</p> + +<p>Again the ring of fire and slaughter met and ended in a treaty; the +treaty of Aix la Chapelle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> by which Cape Breton was ceded to France, +and Nova Scotia, or Acadia, to England. Up to this time no attempt at +colonizing the fertile valleys of Acadia, by its captors, had been +attempted. At last, under large and favorable grants from the Crown, a +colony was established by the Hon. Edward Cornwallis, at a place now +known as Halifax. No sooner was Halifax settled, than sundry tribes of +red men made predatory visits to the borders of the new colony. +Reprisals followed reprisals, and it is not easy to say on which side +lay the largest amount of savage fury. At the same time, the Acadians +remained true to the spirit and letter of the oath they had taken. "They +had relapsed," says the chronicler, "into a sort of sullen neutrality." +This was considered just cause of offence. The oath which had satisfied +Governor Phipps, did not satisfy George II. A new oath of allegiance was +tendered, by which the Acadians were required to become loyal subjects +of the English Crown, to bear arms against their countrymen, and the +Indians to whom the poor colonists were bound by so many ties of +obligation and affection. The consciences of these simple people +revolted at a requisition "so repugnant to the feelings of human +nature." Three hundred of the younger and braver Acadians took up arms +against their oppressors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> This overt act was just what was desired by +the wily Puritans. Acadia, with its twenty thousand inhabitants, was +placed under the ban of having violated the oath of neutrality in the +persons of the three hundred. In vain the great body of the people +protested that this act was contrary to their wishes, their peaceful +habits, and beyond their control. At the fort of Beau Séjour, the brave +three hundred made a gallant stand, but were defeated. Would there had +been a Leonidas among them! Would that the whole of their kinsmen had +erected forts instead of dykes, and dropped the plough-handles to press +the edge of the sabre against the grindstone! Sad indeed is the fate of +that people who make any terms with such an enemy, except such as may be +granted at the bayonet's point. Sad indeed is the condition of that +people who are wrapt in security when Persecution steals in upon them, +hiding its bloody hands under the garments of sanctity.</p> + +<p>Among the many incidents of these cruel wars, the fate of a Jesuit +priest may stand as a type of the rest. Le Père Ralle had been a +missionary for forty years among the various tribes of the Abenaqui. +"His literary attainments were of a high order;" his knowledge of modern +languages respectable; "his Latin," according to Haliburton,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> "was pure, +classical and elegant;" and he was master of several of the Abenaqui +dialects; indeed, a manuscript dictionary of the Abenaqui languages, in +his handwriting, is still preserved in the library of the Harvard +University. Of one of these tribes—the Norridgewoacks—Father Ralle was +the pastor. Its little village was on the banks of the Kennebeck; the +roof of its tiny chapel rose above the pointed wigwams of the savages; +and a huge cross, the emblem of peace, lifted itself above all, the +conspicuous feature of the settlement in the distance. By the tribe over +which he had exercised his gentle rule for so many years, Le Père Ralle +was regarded with superstitious reverence and affection.</p> + +<p>It does not appear that these people had been accused of any overt acts; +but, nevertheless, the village was marked out for destruction. Two +hundred and eight Massachusetts men were dispatched upon this errand. +The settlement was surprised at night, and a terrible scene of slaughter +ensued. Ralle came forth from his chapel to save, if possible, the lives +of his miserable parishioners. "As soon as he was seen," says the +chronicler,<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> "he was saluted with a great shout and a shower of +bullets, and fell, together with seven Indians, who had rushed out of +their tents to defend him with their bodies; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> when the pursuit +ceased, the Indians who had fled, returned to weep over their beloved +missionary, and found him dead at the foot of the cross, his body +perforated with balls, his head scalped, his skull broken with blows of +hatchets, his mouth and eyes filled with mud, the bones of his legs +broken, and his limbs dreadfully mangled. After having bathed his +remains with their tears, they buried him on the site of the chapel, +that had been hewn down with its crucifix, with whatever else remained +of the emblems of idolatry." Such was the merciless character of the +invasion of Acadia; such the looming phantom of the greater crime which +was so speedily to spread ruin over her fair valleys, and scatter +forever her pastoral people.</p> + +<p>The tranquillity of entire subjugation followed these events in the +province. The New Englander built his menacing forts along the rivers, +and pressed into his service the labors of the neutral French. "The +requisitions which were made of them were not calculated to conciliate +affection," says the chronicler; the poor Acadian peasant was informed, +if he did not supply the garrison fuel, his own house would be used for +that purpose, and that neglect to furnish timber for the repairs of a +fort, would be followed by drum-head courts martial, and "military +execution."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + +<p>To all these exactions, these unhappy people patiently submitted. But in +vain. The very existence of the subjugated race had become irksome to +their oppressors. A cruelty yet more intolerable to which the history of +the world affords no parallel, remained to be perpetrated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">On the road to Windsor—The great Nova Scotia Railway—A Fellow +Passenger—Cape Sable Shipwrecks—Seals—Ponies—Windsor—Sam Slick—A +lively Example.</p> + +<p>A dewy, spring-like morning is all I remembered of my farewell to +Halifax. A very sweet and odorous air as I rode towards the railway +station in the funereal cab; a morning without fog, a sparkling +freshness that twinkled in the leaves and crisped the waters.</p> + +<p>So I take leave of thee, quaint old city of Chebucto. The words of a +familiar ditty, the memory of the unfortunate Miss Bailey, rises upon me +as the morning bugle sounds—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A captain bold in Halifax, who lived in country quarters,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seduced a maid, who hung herself next morning in her garters;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His wicked conscience smoted him, he lost his spirits daily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He took to drinking ratifia, and thought upon Miss Bailey."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>While the psychological features of the case<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> were puzzling his brain +and keeping him wide awake—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The candles blue, at XII. o'clock, began to burn quite paley,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A ghost appeared at his bedside, and said—<br /></span> +<span class="i12">behold, Miss Bailey!!!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Even such a sprite, so dead in look, so woe-begone, drew Priam's curtain +in the dead of night to tell him half his Troy was burned; but this +visit was for a different purpose, as we find by the words which the +gallant Lothario addressed to his victim:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'You'll find,' says he, 'a five-pound note in my regimental small-clothes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'T will bribe the sexton for your grave,' the ghost then vanished gaily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Saying, 'God bless you, wicked Captain Smith, although you've ruined Miss Bailey.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There is no end to these legends; the whole province is full of them. +The Province Building is stuffed with rich historical manuscripts, that +only wait for the antiquarian explorer.<a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span>But now we approach the station of the great Nova Scotia Railway, nine +and three-quarter miles in length, that skirts the margin of Bed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>ford +Basin, and ends at the head of that blue sheet of water in the village +of Sackville. It is amusing to see the gravity and importance of the +conductor, in uniform frock-coat and with crown and V. R. buttons, as he +paces up and down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> the platform before starting; and the quiet dignity +of the sixpenny ticket-office; and the busy air of the freight-master, +checking off boxes and bundles for the distant terminus—so distant that +it can barely be distinguished by the naked eye. But it was a pleasant +ride, that by the Basin! Not less pleasant because of the company of an +old friend, who, with wife and children, went with me to the end of the +iron road. Arrived there, we parted, with many a hearty hand-shake, and +thence by stage to Windsor, on the river Avon, forty-five miles or so +west of Halifax.</p> + +<p>My fellow-passenger on the stage-top was a pony! Yes, a real pony! not +bigger, however, than a good sized pointer dog, although his head was of +most preposterous horse-like length. This equine Tom Thumb, was one of +the mustangs, or wild horses of Sable Island, some little account of +which here may not be uninteresting. But first let me say, in order not +to tax the credulity of my reader too much, that pony did not stand +upright upon the roof of the coach, as may have been surmised, but was +very cleverly laid upon his side, with his four legs strapped in the +form of a saw-buck, precisely as butchers tie the legs of calves or of +sheep together, for transportation in carts to the shambles, only pony's +fetters were not so cruel—indeed he seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> to be quite at his +ease—like the member of the foreign legion on the road to Dartmouth.</p> + +<p>Now then, pony's birth-place is one of the most interesting upon our +coast. Do you remember it, my transatlantic traveller? The little yellow +spot that greets you so far out at sea, and bids you welcome to the +western hemisphere? I hope you have seen it in fine weather; many a +goodly ship has left her bones upon that yellow island in less +auspicious seasons. The first of these misadventurers was Sir Humphrey +Gilbert, who was lost in a storm close by; the memorable words with +which he hailed his consort are now familiar to every reader: "Heaven," +said he, "is as near by sea as by land," and so bade the world farewell +in the tempest. Legends of wrecks of buccaneers, of spectres, multiply +as we penetrate into the mysterious history of the yellow island. And +its present aspect is sufficiently tempting to the adventurous, for +whom—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If danger other charms have none,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then danger's self is lure alone."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The following description, from a lecture delivered in Halifax, by Dr. +J. Bernard Gilpin, will commend itself to our modern Robinson Crusoes:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Should any one be visiting the island now, he might see, about ten +miles' distance, looking seaward, half a dozen low, dark hummocks on the +horizon. As he approaches, they gradually resolve themselves into hills +fringed by breakers, and by and by the white sea beach with its +continued surf—the sand-hills, part naked, part waving in grass of the +deepest green, unfold themselves—a house and a barn dot the western +extremity—here and there along the wild beach lie the ribs of unlucky +traders half-buried in the shifting sand. By this time a red ensign is +waving at its peak, and from a tall flag-staff and crow's nest erected +upon the highest hill midway of the island, an answering flag is waving +to the wind. Before the anchor is let go, and the cutter is rounding to +in five fathoms of water, men and horses begin to dot the beach, a +life-boat is drawn rapidly on a boat-cart to the beach, manned, and +fairly breasting the breakers upon the bar. It may have been three long +winter months that this boat's crew have had no tidings of the world, or +they may have three hundred emigrants and wrecked crews, waiting to be +carried off. The hurried greetings over, news told and newspapers and +letters given, the visitor prepares to return with them to the island. +Should it be evening, he will see the cutter already under weigh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> and +standing seaward; but, should it be fine weather, plenty of day, and +wind right off the shore, even then she lies to the wind anchor apeak, +and mainsail hoisted, ready to run at a moment's notice, so sudden are +the shifts of wind, and so hard to claw off from those treacherous +shores. But the life-boat is now entering the perpetual fringe of +surf—a few seals tumble and play in the broken waters, and the stranger +draws his breath hard, as the crew bend to their oars, the helmsman +standing high in the pointed stern, with loud command and powerful arm +keeping her true, the great boat goes riding on the back of a huge wave, +and is carried high up on the beach in a mass of struggling water. To +spring from their seats into the water, and hold hard the boat, now on +the point of being swept back by the receding wave, is the work of an +instant. Another moment they are left high and dry on the beach, +another, and the returning wave and a vigorous run of the crew has borne +her out of all harm's way.</p> + +<p>"Such is the ceremony of landing at Sable Island nine or ten months out +of the year: though there are at times some sweet halcyon days when a +lad might land in a flat. Dry-shod the visitor picks his way between the +thoroughly drenched crew, picks up a huge scallop or two, admires the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +tumbling play of the round-headed seals, and plods his way through the +deep sand of an opening between the hills, or gulch (so called) to the +head-quarters establishment. And here, for the last fifty years, a kind +welcome has awaited all, be they voluntary idlers or sea-wrecked men. +Screened by the sand-hills, here is a well-stocked barn and barnyard, +filled with its ordinary inhabitants, sleek milch cows and heady bulls, +lazy swine, a horse grazing at a tether, with geese and ducks and fowls +around. Two or three large stores and boat-houses, quarters for the men, +the Superintendent's house, blacksmith shop, sailors' home for +sea-wrecked men, and oil-house, stand around an irregular square, and +surmounted by the tall flag-staff and crow's nest on the neighboring +hill. So abrupt the contrast, so snug the scene, if the roar of the +ocean were out of his ears, one might fancy himself twenty miles inland.</p> + +<p>"Nearly the first thing the visitor does is to mount the flag-staff, and +climbing into the crow's nest, scan the scene. The ocean bounds him +everywhere. Spread east and west, he views the narrow island in form of +a bow, as if the great Atlantic waves had bent it around, nowhere much +above a mile wide, twenty-six miles long, including<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> the dry bars, and +holding a shallow late thirteen miles long in its centre.</p> + +<p class="vbreak2">"There it all lies spread like a map at his feet—grassy hill and sandy +valley fading away into the distance. On the foreground the outpost men +galloping their rough ponies into head-quarters, recalled by the flag +flying above his head; the West-end house of refuge, with bread and +matches, firewood and kettle, and directions to find water, and +head-quarters with flag-staff on the adjoining hill. Every sandy peak or +grassy knoll with a dead man's name or old ship's tradition—Baker's +Hill, Trott's Cove, Scotchman's Head, French Gardens—traditionary spot +where the poor convicts expiated their social crimes—the little +burial-ground nestling in the long grass of a high hill, and consecrated +to the repose of many a sea-tossed limb; and two or three miles down the +shallow lake, the South-side house and barn, and staff and boats lying +on the lake beside the door. Nine miles further down, by the help of a +glass, he may view the flag-staff at the foot of the lake, and five +miles further the East-end look-out, with its staff and watch-house. +Herds of wild ponies dot the hills, and black duck and sheldrakes are +heading their young broods on the mirror-like ponds. Seals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> innumerable +are basking on the warm sands, or piled like ledges of rock along the +shores. The Glascow's bow, the Maskonemet's stern, the East Boston's +hulk, and the grinning ribs of the well-fastened Guide are spotting the +sands, each with its tale of last adventure, hardships passed, and toil +endured. The whole picture is set in a silver-frosted frame of rolling +surf and sea-ribbed sand."</p> + +<p>The patrol duty of the hardy islander is thus described:</p> + +<p class="vbreak2">"Mounted upon his hardy pony, the solitary patrol starts upon his lonely +way. He rides up the centre valleys, ever and anon mounting a grassy +hill to look seaward, reaches the West-end bar, speculates upon +perchance a broken spar, an empty bottle, or a cask of beef struggling +in the land-wash—now fords the shallow lake, looking well for his +land-range, to escape the hole where Baker was drowned; and coming on +the breeding-ground of the countless birds, his pony's hoof with a +reckless smash goes crunching through a dozen eggs or callow young. He +fairly puts his pony to her mettle to escape the cloud of angry birds +which, arising in countless numbers, dent his weather-beaten tarpaulin +with their sharp bills, and snap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> his pony's ears, and confuse him with +their sharp, shrill cries. Ten minutes more, and he is holding hard to +count the seals. There they lie, old ocean flocks, resting their +wave-tossed limbs—great ocean bulls, and cows, and calves. He marks +them all. The wary old male turns his broad moustached nostrils to the +tainted gale of man and horse sweeping down upon them, and the whole +herd are simultaneously lumbering a retreat. And now he goes, plying his +little short whip, charging the whole herd to cut off their retreat for +the pleasure and fun of galloping in and over and amongst fifty great +bodies, rolling and tumbling and tossing, and splashing the surf in +their awkward endeavors to escape."</p> + +<p>And now to return to our pony, who seems to sympathize with his +fellow-traveller, for every instant he raises his head as if he would +peep into his note-book. Let me quote this of him and of his brethren:</p> + +<p class="vbreak2">"When the present breed of wild ponies was introduced, there is no +record. In an old print, seemingly a hundred years old, they are +depicted as being lassoed by men in cocked hats and antique habiliments. +At present, three or four hundred are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> their utmost numbers, and it is +curious to observe how in their figures and habits they approach the +wild races of Mexico or the Ukraine. They are divided into herds or +gangs, each having a separate pasture, and each presided over by an old +male, conspicuous by the length of his mane, rolling in tangled masses +over eye and ear down to his fore arm. Half his time seems taken up in +tossing it from his eyes as he collects his out-lying mares and foals on +the approach of strangers, and keeping them well up in a pack boldly +faces the enemy whilst they retreat at a gallop. If pressed, however, +he, too, retreats on their rear. He brooks no undivided allegiance, and +many a fierce battle is waged by the contending chieftains for the honor +of the herd. In form they resemble the wild horses of all lands: the +large head, thick, shaggy neck of the male, low withers, paddling gait, +and sloping quarters, have all their counterparts in the mustang and the +horse of the Ukraine. There seems a remarkable tendency in these horses +to assume the Isabella colors, the light chestnuts, and even the +piebalds or paint horses of the Indian prairies or the Mexican Savannah. +The annual drive or herding, usually resulting in the whole island being +swept from end to end, and a kicking, snorting, half-terrified mass +driven into a large<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> pound, from which two or three dozen are selected, +lassoed, and exported to town, affords fine sport, wild riding, and +plenty of falls."</p> + +<p>Thus much for Sable Island.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dark isle of mourning! aptly art thou named,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thou hast been the cause of many a tear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For deeds of treacherous strife too justly famed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Atlantic's charnel—desolate and drear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A thing none love, though wand'ring thousands fear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If for a moment rest the Muse's wing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where through the waves thy sandy wastes appear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis that she may one strain of horror sing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild as the dashing waves that tempests o'er thee fling."<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And now pony we must part. Windsor approaches! Yonder among the +embowering trees is the residence of Judge Halliburton, the author of +"Sam Slick." How I admire him for his hearty hostility to republican +institutions! It is natural, straightforward, shrewd, and, no doubt, +sincere. At the same time, it affords an example of how much the +colonist or satellite form of government tends to limit the scope of the +mind, which under happier skies and in a wider intelligence might have +shone to advantage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">Windsor-upon-Avon—Ride to the Gasperau—The Basin of +Minas—Blomidon—This is the Acadian Land—Basil, the Blacksmith—A +Yankee Settlement—Useless Reflections.</p> + +<p>Windsor lies upon the river Avon. It is not the Avon which runs by +Stratford's storied banks, but still it is the Avon. There is something +in a name. Witness it, O river of the Blue Noses!</p> + +<p>I cannot recall a prettier village than this. If you doubt my word, come +and see it. Yonder we discern a portion of the Basin of Minas; around us +are the rich meadows of Nova Scotia. Intellect has here placed a +crowning college upon a hill; opulence has surrounded it with +picturesque villas. A ride into the country, a visit to a bachelor's +lodge, studded with horns of moose and cariboo, with woodland scenes and +Landseer's pictures, and then—over the bridge, and over the Avon, +towards Grand-Pré and the Gasperau! I suppose, by this time, my dear +reader, you are tired of sketches of lake scenery, mountain scenery, +pines and spruces, strawberry blossoms, and other natural features of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +the province? For my part, I rode through a strawberry-bed three hundred +miles long—from Sydney to Halifax—diversified by just such patches of +scenery, and was not tired of it. But it is a different matter when you +come to put it on paper. So I forbear.</p> + +<p>Up hill we go, soon to approach the tragic theatre. A crack of the whip, +a stretch of the leaders, and now, suddenly, the whole valley comes in +view! Before us are the great waters of Minas; yonder Blomidon bursts +upon the sight; and below, curving like a scimitar around the edge of +the Basin, and against the distant cliffs that shut out the stormy Bay +of Fundy, is the Acadian land—the idyllic meadows of Grand-Pré lie at +our feet.</p> + +<p>The Abbé Reynal's account of the colony, as it appeared one hundred +years ago, I take from the pages of Haliburton:</p> + +<p>"Hunting and fishing, which had formerly been the delight of the colony, +and might have still supplied it with subsistence, had no further +attraction for a simple and quiet people, and gave way to agriculture, +which had been established in the marshes and low lands, by repelling +with dykes the sea and rivers which covered these plains. These grounds +yielded fifty for one at first, and afterwards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> fifteen or twenty for +one at least; wheat and oats succeeded best in them, but they likewise +produced rye, barley and maize. There were also potatoes in great +plenty, the use of which was become common. At the same time these +immense meadows were covered with numerous flocks. They computed as many +as sixty thousand head of horned cattle; and most families had several +horses, though the tillage was carried on by oxen. Their habitations, +which were constructed of wood, were extremely convenient, and furnished +as neatly as substantial farmer's houses in Europe. They reared a great +deal of poultry of all kinds, which made a variety in their food, at +once wholesome and plentiful. Their ordinary drink was beer and cider, +to which they sometimes added rum. Their usual clothing was in general +the produce of their own flax, or the fleeces of their own sheep; with +these they made common linens and coarse cloths. If any of them had a +desire for articles of greater luxury, they procured them from Annapolis +or Louisburg, and gave in exchange corn, cattle or furs. The neutral +French had nothing else to give their neighbors, and made still fewer +exchanges among themselves; because each separate family was able, and +had been accustomed to provide for its own wants. They therefore knew +nothing of paper currency,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> which was so common throughout the rest of +North America. Even the small quantity of gold and silver which had been +introduced into the colony, did not inspire that activity in which +consists its real value. Their manners were of course extremely simple. +There was seldom a cause, either civil or criminal, of importance enough +to be carried before the Court of Judication, established at Annapolis. +Whatever little differences arose from time to time among them, were +amicably adjusted by their elders. All their public acts were drawn by +their pastors, who had likewise the keeping of their wills; for which, +and their religious services, the inhabitants paid a twenty-seventh part +of their harvest, which was always sufficient to afford more means than +there were objects of generosity.</p> + +<p>"Real misery was wholly unknown, and benevolence anticipated the demands +of poverty.<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> Every misfortune was relieved, as it were, before it +could be felt, without ostentation on the one hand, and without meanness +on the other. It was, in short, a society of brethren; every individual +of which was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> equally ready to give, and to receive, what he thought the +common right of mankind. So perfect a harmony naturally prevented all +those connections of gallantry which are so often fatal to the peace of +families. This evil was prevented by early marriages, for no one passed +his youth in a state of celibacy. As soon as a young man arrived to the +proper age, the community built him a house, broke up the lands about +it, and supplied him with all the necessaries of life for a twelvemonth. +There he received the partner whom he had chosen, and who brought him +her portion in flocks. This new family grew and prospered like the +others. In 1755, all together made a population of eighteen thousand +souls. Such is the picture of these people, as drawn by the Abbé Reynal. +By many, it is thought to represent a state of social happiness totally +inconsistent with the frailties and passions of human nature, and that +it is worthy rather of the poet than the historian. In describing a +scene of rural felicity like this, it is not improbable that his +narrative has partaken of the warmth of feeling for which he was +remarkable; but it comes much nearer the truth than is generally +imagined. Tradition is fresh and positive in the various parts of the +United States where they were located respecting their guileless, +peaceable, and scrupulous cha<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>racter; and the descendants of those, +whose long cherished and endearing local attachment induced them to +return to the land of their nativity, still deserve the name of a mild, +frugal, and pious people."</p> + +<p>As we rest here upon the summit of the Gasperau Mountain, and look down +on yonder valley, we can readily imagine such a people. A pastoral +people, rich in meadow-lands, secured by laborious dykes, and secluded +from the struggling outside world. But we miss the thatch-roof cottages, +by hundreds, which should be the prominent feature in the picture, the +vast herds of cattle, the belfries of scattered village chapels, the +murmur of evening fields,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where peace was tinkling in the shepherd's bell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And singing with the reapers."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These no longer exist:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pré."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I sank back in the stage as it rolled down the mountain-road, and fairly +covered my eyes with my hands, as I repeated Webster's boast: "Thank +God! I too am an American." "But," said I, recovering, "thank God, I +belong to a State that has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> never bragged much of its great moral +antecedents!" and in that reflection I felt comforted, and the load on +my back a little lightened.</p> + +<p>A few weeping willows, the never-failing relics of an Acadian +settlement, yet remain on the roadside; these, with the dykes and Great +Prairie itself, are the only memorials of a once happy people. The sun +was just sinking behind the Gasperau mountain as we entered the ancient +village. There was a smithy beside the stage-house, and we could see the +dusky glow of the forge within, and the swart mechanic</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nailing the shoe in its place."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But it was not Basil the Blacksmith, nor one of his descendants, that +held the horse-hoof. The face of the smith was of the genuine New +England type, and just such faces as I saw everywhere in the village. In +the shifting panorama of the itinerary I suddenly found myself in a +hundred-year-old colony of genuine Yankees, the real true blues of +Connecticut, quilted in amidst the blue noses of Nova Scotia.</p> + +<p>But of the poor Acadians not one remains now in the ancient village. It +is a solemn comment upon their peaceful and unrevengeful natures, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +two hundred settlers from Hew England remained unmolested upon their +lands, and that the descendants of those New England settlers now occupy +them. A solemn comment upon our history, and the touching epitaph of an +exterminated race.</p> + +<p>Much as we may admire the various bays and lakes, the inlets, +promontories, and straits, the mountains and woodlands of this +rarely-visited corner of creation—and, compared with it, we can boast +of no coast scenery so beautiful—the valley of Grand-Pré transcends all +the rest in the Province. Only our valley of Wyoming, as an inland +picture, may match it, both in beauty and tradition. One has had its +Gertrude, the other its Evangeline. But Campbell never saw Wyoming, nor +has Longfellow yet visited the shores of the Basin of Minas. And I may +venture to say, neither poet has touched the key-note of divine anger +which either story might have awakened.</p> + +<p>But let us be thankful for those simple and beautiful idyls. After all, +it is a question whether the greatest and noblest impulses of man are +not awakened rather by the sympathy we feel for the oppressed, than by +the hatred engendered by the acts of the oppressor?</p> + +<p>I wish I could shake off these useless reflections of a bygone period. +But who can help it?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaped like the roe when it hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where is the thatch-roof village, the home of Acadian farmers—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p class="vbreak2">The Valley of Acadia—A Morning Ride to the Dykes—An unexpected +Wild-duck Chase—High Tides—The Gasperau—Sunset—The Lamp of +History—Conclusion.</p> + +<p>The eastern sun glittered on roof and window-pane next morning. Neat +houses in the midst of trim gardens, rise tier above tier on the +hill-slopes that overlook the prairie lands. A green expanse, several +miles in width, extends to the edge of the dykes, and in the distance, +upon its verge, here and there a farmhouse looms up in the warm haze of +a summer morning. On the left hand the meadows roll away until they are +merged in the bases of the cliffs that, stretching forth over the blue +water of the Basin, end abruptly at Cape Blomidon. These cliffs are +precise counterparts of our own Palisades, on the Hudson. Then to the +right, again, the vision follows the hazy coast-line until it melts in +the indistinct outline of wave and vapor, back of which rises the +Gasperau mountain, that protects the valley on the east with +corresponding barriers of rock and forest. Within this hemicycle lie the +waters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> of Minas, bounded on the north by the horizon-line, the clouds +and the sky.</p> + +<p>Once happy Acadia nestled in this valley. Does it not seem incredible +that even Puritan tyranny could have looked with hard and pitiless eyes +upon such a scene, and invade with rapine, sword and fire, the peace and +serenity of a land so fair?</p> + +<p>A morning ride across the Grand-Pré convinced me that the natural +opulence of the valley had not been exaggerated. These once desolate and +bitter marshes, reclaimed from the sea by the patient labor of the +French peasant, are about three miles broad by twenty miles long. The +prairie grass, even at this time of year, is knee-deep, and, as I was +informed, yields, without cultivation, from two to four tons to the +acre. The fertility of the valley in other respects is equally great. +The dyke lands are intersected by a network of white causeways, raised +above the level of the meadows. We passed over these to the outer edge +of the dykes. "These lands," said my young companion, "are filled in +this season with immense flocks of all kinds of feathered game." And I +soon had reason to be convinced of the truth of it, for just then we +started up what seemed to be a wounded wild-duck, upon which out leaped +my companion from the wagon and gave chase. A bunch of tall grass, upon +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> edge of a little pool, lay between him and the game; he brushed +hastily through this, and out of it poured a little feathered colony. As +these young ones were not yet able to fly, they were soon +captured—seven little black ducks safely nestled together under the +seat of the wagon, and poor Niobe trailed her broken wing within a +tempting distance in vain.</p> + +<p>We were soon upon the dykes themselves, which are raised upon the edge +of the meadows, and are quite insignificant in height, albeit of great +extent otherwise. But from the bottom of the dykes to the edge of yonder +sparkling water, there is a bare beach, full three miles in extent. What +does this mean? What are these dykes for, if the enemy is so far off? +The answer to this query discloses a remarkable phenomenon. The tide in +this part of the world rises sixty or seventy feet every twelve hours. +At present the beach is bare; the five rivers of the valley—the +Gasperau, the Cornwallis, the Canard, the Habitant, the Perot—are +empty. Betimes the tide will roll in in one broad unretreating wave, +surging and shouldering its way over the expanse, filling all the +rivers, and dashing against the protecting barriers under our feet; but +before sunset the rivers will be emptied again, the bridges will +uselessly hang in the air over the deserted channels, the beach will +yawn wide and bare where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> a ship of the line might have anchored. +Sometimes a stranger schooner from New England, secure in a safe +distance from shore, drops down in six or seven fathom. Then, suddenly, +the ebb sweeps off from the intruder, and leaves his two-master keeled +over, with useless anchor and cable exposed, "to point a moral and adorn +a tale." Sometimes a party will take boat for a row upon the placid +bosom of this bay; but woe unto them if they consult not the almanac! A +mistake may leave them high and dry on the beach, miles from the dykes, +and as the tide comes in with a <i>bore</i>, a sudden influx, wave above +wave, the risk is imminent.</p> + +<p>I passed two days in this happy valley, sometimes riding across to the +dykes, sometimes visiting the neighboring villages, sometimes wandering +on foot over the hills to the upper waters of the rivers. And the +Gasperau in particular is an attractive little mountain sylph, as it +comes skipping down the rocks, breaking here and there out in a broad +cascade, or rippling and singing in the heart of the grand old forest. I +think my friend Kensett might set his pallet here, and pitch a brief +tent by Minas and the Gasperau to advantage. For my own part, I would +that I had my trout-pole and a fly!</p> + +<p>But now the sun sinks behind the cliffs of Blow-me-down. To-morrow I +must take the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> steamer for home, "sweet home!" What shall I say in +conclusion? Shall I stop here and write <i>finis</i>, or once more trim the +lamp of history? I feel as it were the whole wrongs of the French +Province concentrated here, as in the last drop of its life blood, no +tender dream of pastoral description, no clever veil of elaborate verse, +can conceal the hideous features of this remorseless act, this wanton +and useless deed of New England cruelty. Do not mistake me, my reader. +Do not think that I am prejudiced against New England. But I hate +tyranny—under whatever disguise, or in whatever shape—in an +individual, or in a nation—in a state, or in a congregation of states; +so do you; and of course you will agree with me, that so long as the +maxim obtains, "that the object justifies the means," certain effects +must follow, and this maxim was the guiding star of our forefathers when +they marched into the French province.</p> + +<p>The peculiar situation of the Acadians, embarrassed the colonists of +Massachusetts. The French <i>neutrals</i>, had taken the oath of fidelity, +but they refused to take the oath of allegiance which compelled them to +bear arms against their countrymen, and the Indians, who from first to +last had been their constant and devoted friends. The long course of +persecution, for a century and a half,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> had struck but one spark of +resistance from this people—the stand of the three hundred young +warriors at Fort Séjour. Upon this act followed the retaliation of the +Pilgrim Fathers. They determined to remove and disperse the Acadians +among the British colonies. To carry out this edict, Colonel Winslow, +with five transports and a sufficient force of New England troops, was +dispatched to the Basin of Minas. At a consultation, held between +Colonel Winslow and Captain Murray, it was agreed that a proclamation +should be issued at the different settlements, requiring the attendance +of the people at the respective posts on the same day; which +proclamation would be so ambiguous in its nature, that the object for +which they were to assemble could not be discerned, and so peremptory in +its terms, as to insure implicit obedience. This instrument having been +drafted and approved, was distributed according to the original plan. +That which was addressed to the people inhabiting the country now +comprised within the limit of King's County, was as follows:</p> + +<p>"'<i>To the inhabitants of the District of Grand-Pré, Minas, River Canard, +etc.; as well ancient, as young men and lads</i>:</p> + +<p class="sig1">"'Whereas, his Excellency the Governor has<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> instructed us of his late +resolution, respecting the matter proposed to the inhabitants, and has +ordered us to communicate the same in person, his Excellency, being +desirous that each of them should be fully satisfied of his Majesty's +intentions, which he has also ordered us to communicate to you, such as +they have been given to him: We therefore order and strictly enjoin, by +these presents, all of the inhabitants, as well of the above-named +District, as of all the other Districts, both old men and young men, as +well as all the lads of ten years of age, to attend at the church at +Grand-Pré, on Friday the fifth instant, at three of the clock in the +afternoon, that we may impart to them what we are ordered to communicate +to them; declaring that no excuse will be admitted on any pretence +whatever, on pain of forfeiting goods and chattels, in default of real +estate.—Given at Grand-Pré, second September, 1755, and twenty-ninth +year of his Majesty's reign.</p> + +<p class="sig2"><span class="smcap">John Winslow</span>.'</p> + +<p>"In obedience to this summons, four hundred and eighteen able-bodied men +assembled. These being shut into the church (for that too had become an +arsenal), Colonel Winslow placed himself with his officers, in the +centre, and addressed them thus:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'<span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>: I have received from his Excellency, Governor Lawrence, the +King's commission, which I have in my hand; and by his orders you are +convened together, to manifest to you his Majesty's final resolution to +the French inhabitants of this his province of Nova Scotia; who, for +almost half a century, have had more indulgence granted them than any of +his subjects in any part of his dominions; what use you have made of it +you yourselves best know. The part of duty I am now upon, though +necessary, is very disagreeable to my natural make and temper, as I know +it must be grievous to you, who are of the same species; but it is not +my business to animadvert, but to obey such orders as I receive, and +therefore, without hesitation, shall deliver you his Majesty's orders +and instructions, namely, that your lands and tenements, cattle of all +kinds and live stock of all sorts, are forfeited to the Crown; with all +other your effects, saving your money and household goods, and you +yourselves to be removed from this his province.</p> + +<p>"'Thus it is peremptorily his Majesty's orders, that the whole French +inhabitants of these Districts be removed; and I am, through his +Majesty's goodness, directed to allow you liberty to carry off your +money and household goods, as many as you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> can without discommoding the +vessels you go in. I shall do everything in my power that all those +goods be secured to you, and that you are not molested in carrying them +off; also that whole families shall go in the same vessel, and make this +remove, which I am sensible must give you a great deal of trouble, as +easy as his Majesty's service will admit: and hope that, in whatever +part of the world you may fall, you may be faithful subjects, a +peaceable and happy people. I must also inform you that it is his +Majesty's pleasure that you remain in security under the inspection and +direction of the troops I have the honor to command.'</p> + +<p>"The poor people, unconscious of any crime, and full of concern for +having incurred his Majesty's displeasure, petitioned Colonel Winslow +for leave to visit their families, and entreated him to detain a part +only of the prisoners as hostages; urging with tears and prayers their +intention to fulfill their promise of returning after taking leave of +their kindred and consoling them in their distresses and misfortunes. +The answer of Colonel Winslow to this petition was to grant leave of +absence to twenty only, for a single day. This sentence they bore with +fortitude and resignation, but when the hour of embarkation arrived, in +which they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> to part with their friends and relatives without a hope +of ever seeing them again, and to be dispersed among strangers, whose +language, customs, and religion, were opposed to their own, the weakness +of human nature prevailed, and they were overpowered with the sense of +their miseries. The young men were first ordered to go on board of one +of the vessels. This they instantly and peremptorily refused to do, +declaring that they would not leave their parents; but expressed a +willingness to comply with the order, provided they were permitted to +embark with their families. The request was rejected, and the troops +were ordered to fix bayonets and advance toward the prisoners, a motion +which had the effect of producing obedience on the part of the young +men, who forthwith commenced their march. The road from the chapel to +the shore—just one mile in length—was crowded with women and children; +who, on their knees, greeted them as they passed, with their tears and +their blessings; while the prisoners advanced with slow and reluctant +steps, weeping, praying, and singing hymns. This detachment was followed +by the seniors, who passed through the same scene of sorrow and +distress. In this manner was the whole male part of the population of +the District of Minas put on board the five transports stationed in the +river Gasperau."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, my dear lady; you who have followed the fortunes of Evangeline, in +Longfellow's beautiful poem, and haply wept over her weary pilgrimage, +pray give a thought to the rest of the 18,000 sent into a similar exile! +And you, my dear friend, who have listened to the oracles of Plymouth +pulpits, take a Sabbath afternoon, and calmly consider how far you may +venture to place your faith upon it, whether you can subscribe to the +idolatrous worship of that boulder stone, and say—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Rock of ages cleft for me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let me to thy bosom flee;"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>or whether you measure any other act between this present time and the +past eighteen hundred years, except by the eternal principles of +Righteousness and Truth?</p> + +<p>Gentle reader, as we sit in this little inn-room, and see the ragged +edge of the moon shimmering over the meadows of Grand-Pré, do we not +feel a touch of the sin that soiled her garments a hundred years ago? +Had we not better abstain from blowing our Puritan trumpets so loudly, +and wreathe with crape our banners for a season? Let us rather date from +more recent achievements. Let us take a fresh start in history and brag +of nothing that antedates Bunker Hill. Here everybody has a hand to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +applaud. But for the age that preceded it, the least said about it the +better! There, out lamp! and good night! to-morrow "Home, sweet Home!" +But I love this province!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="Appendix" id="Appendix"></a>APPENDIX.</h2> + +<p>Peccavi! I hope the reader will forgive me for my luckless description +of the procession to lay the corner stone of the Halifax Lunatic Asylum, +in Chapter I. No person can trifle or jest with the <i>object</i> of so noble +a charity. But the procession itself was pretty much as I have described +it; indeed, pretty much like all the civic processions I have ever +witnessed in any country. The following account of the results of that +good work may interest the reader:</p> + +<p>"A visit to the <span class="smcap">Lunatic Asylum</span> building, on the eastern side of the +harbor, furnishes some notes of interest. The walk from the ferry has +very pleasing features of village, farming and woodland character. The +building stands on a rising ground, which commands a noble view of the +western bank of the harbor opposite; northward, of the Narrows and +Basin; and southward, of the islands, headlands and ocean. The medical +superintendent of the institution is actively engaged carrying out plans +toward the completion of the building, and gives very courteous +facilities to visitors. The part of the Asylum which now appears of such +respectable dimensions is just one-third part of the intended building. +It is expected to accommodate ninety patients; the completed building, +two hundred and fifty. The private and public rooms, cooking,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> serving, +heating and other apartments appear to be very judiciously arranged, +with an eye to good order, cheerfulness and thorough efficiency. The +building is well drained, defective mason-work has been remedied, and +all appears steadily advancing towards the consummation of wishes long +entertained by its philanthropic projectors. The building is to be +lighted with gas manufactured on the premises; all the apartments are to +be heated by steam; and the water required for various purposes of the +establishment, after being conveyed from the lakes, is to be raised to +the loft immediately under the roof, and there held in tanks, ready for +demand. The roofing we understand to be a model for lightness of +material and firmness of construction. The heating apparatus occupies +the underground floor. It consists of numerous coils of metal tubes, to +which the steam is conveyed from an out-building, which contains the +furnace and other apparatus. From the hot-air apartment the warm air is +conveyed, by means of flues, to the various rooms of the building, each +flue being under the immediate control of the officers of the +institution. Ventilation is obtained by flues communicating with the +space just below the roof; and the impure air is expected to pass off +through openings in the cupola which rises above the roof ridges. By the +heating apparatus the danger and trouble consequent on numerous fires +are avoided, at about the same expense which the common mode would +cause. Very judicious arrangements for drainage, laying off the grounds, +etc., appear to have been adopted, and are in progress. The building is +to be approached by a gracefully curved carriage road. The grounds are +to be surrounded by a hawthorn fence, immediately within which will be a +shaded, thoroughly drained path for walking. The slopes of the hill in +front are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> in course of levelling, and will soon present a scene of lawn +and grain field; while a southwest area is laid off as an extensive +garden and nursery of trees and shrubs. This important appendage to such +an institution is charmingly situated, as regards scenery; and, with its +terraces, plantation, vegetable and flower departments, etc., will soon +be a very admirable place of resort for purposes of sanitary toil, or +retirement and rest. We rejoice that, altogether, the establishment +promises to be a very decided proof of provincial advance, and a credit +to the country. After all the difficulties, delays and doubts that have +occurred, this is a very gratifying result. The building is expected to +be ready for reception of patients sometime in September, or the early +part of October."—<i>Halifax Morning Sun</i>, <i>June 14, 1858</i>.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Halifax.</span>—The following letter of a correspondent of the <i>New York +Times</i> may interest the reader. It is a very fair account of the aspect +of the chief city of this Province:</p> + +<p>"The Lieutenant-Governor, Sir J. Gaspard le Marchant, is said to be a +severe disciplinarian. He served in the wars of the Peninsula, and is +now being rewarded for his distinguished services as Governor of this +Province. He reviews the troops twice a week upon the Common, and is +very strict. The evolutions of the rank and file are the most perfect +exhibitions of the kind I have ever witnessed. During one of these +reviews I took occasion to remark to a citizen that they were <i>almost</i> +equal to the Seventh Regiment of New York. The bystanders laughed +incredulously. The bands are as per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span>fect in movement as the troops. The +whole affair passes off literally like clock-work, a pendulum being kept +in sight of the reviewing officers, by which to measure the music of the +bands, and step of the soldiers. Each review concludes with a +presentation of the royal standard—the identical colors which were +first unfurled upon the Redan by this regiment at the fall of +Sebastopol. The ceremony is impressive, an almost superstitious +reverence being paid to the triumphant bunting. The review ended, the +band remains for a half hour to play for the entertainment of the +citizens, who generally attend in large numbers.</p> + +<p>"There are among the officers and soldiers of the 62d and 63d many +bearing upon their left breasts the Victoria medal, and other +decorations bestowed for distinguished bravery at Sebastopol. The most +eminent of these is Colonel Ingall, who has both breasts covered with +these testimonials of bravery. They are not, however, confined to the +officers, but many of the rank and file are favored in like manner.</p> + +<p>"The military as a whole are popular among the citizens, and many of the +officers, and not a few of the privates since their return from the +Crimea, have stormed other Malakoffs, when the victory has been as +signal, if the risks have not been as great, carrying off, as trophies, +some of the finest girls in the place.</p> + +<p>"Upon entering this harbor from the sea the principal objects of +interest to a stranger are the fortifications which line its two sides, +the first three or four being round castles pierced for two tiers of +guns, and having temporary wooden roofs thrown over them to protect the +works; they are situated upon prominent points and islands commanding +both entrances. The first principal fort is that situated at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +junction of the 'northwest arm' with the harbor. This is a granite +structure of some pretensions, and during the past season was, with the +high, level lands which surround it, made the head-quarters or +camping-ground for the troops. Tents here covered all the hill-side, +presenting a very picturesque appearance; camp life was adopted in all +its details, and the most thorough drilling was gone through with, +including the digging of trenches, throwing up earth-works, etc. The +fortifications upon George's Island, just below the town, are being +extended and strengthened, and when completed, will be the principal +defence of the harbor. The Citadel or Fort George, occupies the high, +round hill which rises directly back of the town, to about three hundred +feet above the tide, and perfectly commands the town and adjacent +harbor. There is said to be room enough within its walls for all the +inhabitants of the town, to which they could retreat in case of a siege. +From a personal inspection, however, I judge they would have to pack +them pretty closely. The works cover an area of about six acres, there +being a double line of forts, composed of massive granite, and +presenting every variety of angle. A ditch twenty-five feet deep and +sixty feet wide surrounds it on all sides, with a single entrance or +bridgeway, on the east aide, which could be removed in an hour. Two +ravelins, which have been lately completed within the walls, are elegant +specimens of masonry. The whole hill is being rounded off, and a line of +earth-works are to be constructed at its base at every salient angle. +The parapet is now covered at wide intervals, with 32-pounders, mounted +upon iron carriages. Extensive changes and improvements are being +adopted, and when the present plans are complete, this fort, it is said, +will mount over 400 guns. The cast-iron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> swivel carriages are condemned +as being too liable to injury from cannon-shots, and are all to be +replaced by others made of teak-wood.</p> + +<p>"There exists, evidently, some reluctance among the officers in command +to a close inspection of these works by foreigners. An instance in point +occurred to-day. There were two young men, Americans, looking at the +fort. They had obtained permission, which is given in writing by the +Quartermaster-General, to inspect the Signal-Station, etc., but they +were observed with paper and pencil in hand, taking down particular +memoranda of the fortification, the size of guns, their number, the +positions of the ravelins and what not. As this was considered a +palpable breach of courtesy, a sergeant tapped them on the shoulder and +led them out of the gate, with a reprimand for what he called their want +of good manners. It is a long time since anything of the kind has +occurred.</p> + +<p>"This Citadel is the place from which all vessels are signalled to the +town. The signal stations are four in number; the first being at the +Citadel, the second at 'York Redcut,' five miles down the harbor, the +third, 'Camperdown,' some ten miles further, and the fourth, with which +this last signals, is the island of 'Sambro,' ten miles south of the +entrance to the harbor. The system is carried on by means of a series of +black balls, which are hoisted in different positions upon two +yard-arms, a long and a short one, placed one above the other on a tall +flag-staff. The communication is very rapid, and is exempt from +liability to mistakes. A sentence transmitting an order of any kind from +one of the lower stations is sent and received in less than two minutes. +The distance from 'Sambro,' the outer station, is about twenty miles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +from the Citadel. Maryatt's code of marine signals is in use here. The +new marine code, lately issued under the auspices of the London Board of +Trade, 'for all nations,' is pronounced by the operator as too +complicated to become of any practical use, necessitating, as it would, +the employment of a 'flag-lieutenant' on board every ship, who should do +nothing but the signalling, since not one captain in a hundred would +ever have the time or patience to acquaint himself with its mysteries.</p> + +<p>"Some works of internal improvement are in progress, which will be +important in promoting the prosperity and in developing the resources of +this Province. A railroad across the Isthmus to Truro, with a +branch-road to Windsor, will connect the interior towns with Halifax, +and furnish <i>modern</i> facilities for communication with the other +Provinces and with the States. Twenty-two miles of the road are already +completed, and the remainder will be finished soon. A canal is also in +progress from the head of Halifax harbor (north side) in the direction +of Truro, which is to connect a remarkable chain of lakes with the +Shubenacadie River, which empties into Minas' Basin at the head of the +Bay of Fundy. Great results are anticipated in favor of the farming and +other interests along its route. The work is in an advanced stage +towards completion.</p> + +<p>"There is, it is said, no portion of the American Continent so +abundantly supplied with water communication as Nova Scotia. The whole +interior is a continuous chain of lakes. The coast is rocky and most +unpromising, but the interior is said to contain some of the best +farming land east of Illinois. Hon. Albert Pillsbury, the American +Consul, who is thoroughly conversant with the resources of the Province, +declares it, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> his opinion, the richest portion of the American +Continent—richest in coal, minerals and agricultural resources. Mr. +Pillsbury takes advantage of his well-deserved popularity in the +Province to tell the Blue Noses some home truths. On one occasion he +told them it was evident the Lord knew they were the laziest people on +the earth, and had, therefore, taken pity on them, and given them more +facilities for transacting their business than were possessed by any +other people under the sun.</p> + +<p>"In the newspaper line Nova Scotia appears to be fully up to the spirit +of the age. The following is a list of all kinds published in the +Province:</p> + +<p>"<i>Tri-Weeklies.</i>—Morning Journal, Morning Chronicle, Morning +Advertiser, the Sun, and British Colonist.</p> + +<p>"<i>Weeklies.</i>—Acadian Recorder, Nova Scotian, Weekly Sun, and Weekly +Colonist.</p> + +<p>"<i>Religious (?).</i>—Church Times, Episcopal; Presbyterian Witness, +Presbyterian Church of Nova Scotia, etc.; Monthly Record, Established +Church of Scotland or Kirk; Christian Messenger, Baptist; Catholic, +Roman Catholic; Wesleyan, Methodist.</p> + +<p>"<i>Temperance.</i>—The Abstainer.</p> + +<p>"<i>Weeklies.</i>—Yarmouth Herald, published at Yarmouth; Yarmouth Tribune +(semi-weekly); Liverpool Transcript, Liverpool; Western News, +Bridgetown; Avon Herald (semi-weekly), Windsor; Eastern Chronicle, +Pictou; Antigonish Casket, Antigonish; Cape Breton News, Sidney, C. B.</p> + +<p>"In telegraphs they are better supplied than any other portion of the +world of equal territory, and the same number of inhabitants. There are +thirty-nine offices, and 1,300 miles of telegraphic wire in this +Province.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Reciprocity Treaty has largely increased the trade of Nova Scotia, +but the means of intercommunication are still far behind the wants of +the people. When it was proposed a year ago to place a steamer upon the +line from Halifax to Boston, to carry freight and passengers, the idea +was scouted as chimerical, and certain to fail. The Eastern State, a +Philadelphia-built propeller of 330 tons, was purchased and commenced to +ply fortnightly; she has accommodations for fifty passengers, and two +hundred tons of freight. She has seldom had less than fifty passengers +upon any trip, and upon the last one from Halifax there were one hundred +and sixty-three. The fare from Boston to Halifax is $10, meals included. +She has also had a good supply of freight, and has cleared for her +owners the last year over $2,500. Captain Killam, her commander, is +highly esteemed, for his sailorly and gentlemanly qualities. In the +opinion of shrewd business men, a steamer would pay between this and New +York direct. At present, Boston virtually controls the fish-market in +part by her intimate relations with the Provinces, and New York buys +second-hand from them, when they might as well have their fish from +first hands.</p> + +<p class="sig1">"Government lands are to be purchased in any quantity at $1 per acre, +and by an act of the Provincial Legislature, aliens are as free to +purchase as native citizens or residents. Several American capitalists +have availed themselves of the opening, and invested largely in the +'timber and farming lands of Nova Scotia, and an infusion of this +element is all that is required to develop a prosperous future for this +Province.' </p> + +<p class="sig2">"<span class="smcap">Saile.</span>" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Tories.</span>—The number of loyalists who arrived in Nova Scotia was very +great. They constituted a large proportion of the original settlers in +almost every section of the colony. So termed because of their loyalty +to the sovereign, and unwillingness to remain in the revolted and +independent States, they found their way hither chiefly in the years +1783-4. Sometimes termed refugees, because of their seeking refuge on +British soil from those with whom they had contended in the great +Revolutionary struggle, the names are often interchanged, whilst +sometimes they are joined together in the title of 'Loyalist Refugees.' +No less than 20,000 arrived prior to the close of the year in which the +Independence of the United States was acknowledged. These chose spots +suited to their inclinations, if not always adapted to their wants, in +the counties of Digby, Annapolis, Guysboro', Shelburne, and Hants. In +these five counties, for the most part, are resident the children of the +loyalists, though, as hinted, they are to be met with in smaller +companies elsewhere.</p> + +<p class="vbreak2">"We cannot doubt that the purest motives and highest sense of duty +actuated very many, though not all, of this vast number, when they +turned their backs upon the houses and farms, the pursuits and business, +the friends and relations of past years. To this may, in some measure, +be attributed the marked loyalty of this province. Principles of +obedience to the laws, and allegiance to the crown, were instilled into +the minds of their children, who in their turn handed down the +sentiments of their ancestors until the good leaven spread, and tended +to strengthen that loyalty which already existed in the hearts of the +people. More than once has this trait been manifested by our countrymen +in town and country. When the first blood of the rebellion in Canada was +shed in 1837, meet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span>ings were held in every village and settlement in the +province, each proclaiming in fervent language the deepest attachment to +the sovereign and the government, while in Halifax the people determined +to support the wives and children of the absent troops. When two years +later the inhabitants of the State of Maine prepared to invade New +Brunswick, the announcement was received with intense feelings of regard +for the honor of the British Crown. The House, which was then sitting, +voted £100,000, and 8,000 men to aid the New Brunswickers in repelling +the invaders, and rising in a body gave three cheers for the queen, and +three for their loyal brethren of the sister province. Long may the +feeling continue to exist, and grow within our borders! long may we +remain beneath the mild away of that gracious queen, whose virtues shed +lustre on the crown she wears! long may every Nova Scotian's voice +exclaim, 'God save our noble Queen.'"—<i>Nova Scotia and Nova Scotians, +by</i> <span class="smcap">Rev. Geo. W. Hill</span>, A.M.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Negroes.</span>—There are to be found in the colony some five thousand +negroes, whose ancestors came to the province in four distinct bodies, +and at different times. The first class were originally slaves, who +accompanied their masters from the older colonies; but as the opinion +prevailed that the courts would not recognize a state of slavery, they +were liberated. On receiving their freedom they either remained in the +employment of their former owners, or obtaining a small piece of land in +the neighborhood, eked out a miserable existence, rarely improving their +condition, bodily or mental.</p> + +<p>"There were, secondly, a number of free negroes, who arrived at the +conclusion of the American Revolutionary war; but an immense number of +these were removed at their own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> request to Sierra Leone, being +dissatisfied with both the soil and climate.</p> + +<p>"Shortly after the removal of these people, the insurgent negroes of +Jamaica were transported to Nova Scotia; they were known by the name of +Maroons in the island, and still termed so, on their landing at Halifax. +Their story is replete with interest: during their brief stay in Nova +Scotia they gave incredible trouble from their lawless and licentious +habits, in addition to costing the government no less a sum than ten +thousand pounds a year. Their idleness and gross conduct at last +determined the government to send them, as the others, to Sierra Leone, +which was accordingly done in the year 1803, after having resided at +Preston for the space of four years.</p> + +<p>"The last arrival of Africans in a body was at the conclusion of the +second American War in 1815, when a large number were permitted to take +refuge on board the British squadron, blockading the Chesapeake and +southern harbors, and were afterwards landed at Halifax. The blacks now +resident in Nova Scotia are descendants chiefly of the first and last +importations—the greater part of the two intermediate having been +removed. Even some of these last were transported by their own wish to +Trinidad, while those who remained settled down at Preston and Hammonds +Plains, or wandered to Windsor and other places close at hand.</p> + +<p class="vbreak2">"But little changed in any respect—their persons and their +property—they have passed through much wretchedness during the last +half century. Their natural indolence and love of ease being ill suited +to our latitude, in which a long and severe winter demands unceasing +diligence, and more than ordinary prudence, in those who depend upon +manual labor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> for their means of subsistence. Amongst them, however, are +to be found a few who are prudent, diligent and prosperous. These are +worthy of the more esteem, in proportion as they have met with greater +obstacles, and happily have surmounted them."—<i>Ibid.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eminent Men.</span>—Besides many gentlemen of rare talents, distinguished in +the annals of the province, the following Nova Scotians have won a more +extended reputation: Sir <span class="smcap">Edward Belcher</span>, the famous Arctic navigator; +Rear-Admiral <span class="smcap">Provo Wallis</span>, who captured our own vessel the Chesapeake, +after the death of his superior, Captain Brooke. The words of Lawrence, +"Don't give up the ship," record the memorable achievement of this naval +officer. <span class="smcap">Donald McKay</span>, who after perfecting his education in New York as +a ship-builder, removed to Boston, Massachusetts, and there has won for +that city distinguished honors; <span class="smcap">Thomas C. Haliburton</span>, the author of "Sam +Slick," and a great number of other clever books; <span class="smcap">Samuel Cunard</span>, the +father of the Cunard line! who does not know him? General <span class="smcap">Beckwith</span>, not +less known in the annals of philanthropy; <span class="smcap">Gilbert Stuart Newton</span>, artist; +General Inglis, the defender of Lucknow, and General William Fenwick +Williams, the hero of Kars. The mere mention of such names is +sufficient—their eulogy suggests itself.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Footnotes</h2> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Adam Clark's "Commentary on Book of Kings." II. Samuel, +chap. iii.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> This William Alexander, Earl of Sterling, was the ancestor +of General Lord Sterling, one of the most distinguished officers in the +American Revolution.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> The name "Acadia," is, no doubt, a primitive word, from the +Abenaqui tongue—we find it repeated in <i>Tracadie</i>, <i>Shubenacadie</i>, and +elsewhere in the province.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> One incident will suffice to show the character of these +forays. A small island on Passamaquoddy Bay was invaded by the forces +under Col. Church, at night. The inhabitants made no resistance. All +gave up; "but," says Church in his dispatch to the governor, "looking +over a little run, I saw something look black just by me: stopped and +heard a talking; stepped over and saw a little hut, or wigwam, with a +crowd of people round about it, which was contrary to my former +directions. I asked them what they were doing? They replied, 'there were +some of the enemy in a house, and would not come out.' I asked what +house? They said, 'a bark house' I hastily bid them pull it down, <i>and +knock them on the head, never asking whether they were French or +Indians, they being all enemies alike to me</i>." Such was the merciless +character of these early expeditions to peaceful Acadia. +</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Herod of Galilee's babe-butchering deed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lives not on history's blushing page alone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our skies, it seems, have seen like victims bleed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And our own Ramahs echoed groan for groan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fiends of France, whose cruelties decreed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Those dexterous drownings in the Loire and Rhone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were, at their worst, but copyists, second-hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of our shrined, sainted sires, the Plymouth Pilgrim band."<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> In the treaty of Utrecht, no mention was made either of the +Indians or of their lands.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> Charlevoix.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Since my visit this work has actually commenced. At the +close of the legislative session of 1857, the Hon. Joseph Howe moved, +and the Hon. Attorney-General seconded, and the House, after some demur, +resolved, that his Excellency be requested to appoint a commission for +examining and arranging the records of the Province. Dining the recess +the office was instituted, and Thomas B. Akins, Esq., a gentleman +distinguished for antiquarian taste and research, was appointed +commissioner. It was known that in the garrets or cellars of the +Province Building were heaps of manuscript records, of various kinds; +but their exact nature and value were only surmised. Some of these had +vanished, it is said, by the agency of rats and mice; and moth and mold +were doing their work on other portions. To stay the waste, to ascertain +what the heaps contained, and to arrange documents at all worthy of +preservation, the commission was appointed. Mr. Akins has been for some +months at the superintendence of the work, helped by a very industrious +assistant, Mr. James Farquhar. Very pleasing results indeed have been +realized. Several boxes of documents, arranged and labelled, have been +packed, and fifteen or twenty volumes of interesting manuscripts have +been prepared. Some of these are of great interest, relative to the +history of the Province, and of British America generally, being +original papers concerning the conquest and settling of the Provinces, +and having reference to the Acadian French, the Indians, the taking of +Louisburgh, of Quebec, and other matters of historic importance +connected with the suppression of French dominion in America. We +understand some of these documents prove, as many previously believed, +that what appeared to be a stern necessity, and not wanton oppression or +tyranny, caused the painful dispersion of the former French inhabitants +of the more poetic and pastoral parts of Acadia. If this be so, some +excellent sentiment and eloquent romance will have to be taken with +considerable modification. A few of the most indignant bursts (?) in +Longfellow's fine poem of "Evangeline" may be in this predicament; and +may have to be read, not exactly as so much gospel, but rather as +rhetorical extremes, unsubstantial, but too elegant to be altogether +discarded. In volumes alluded to, of the record commission, the +dispatches, and letters, and other documents of a former age, and in the +handwriting, or from the immediate dictation, of eminent personages, +will present very attractive material for those who find deep interest +in such venerable inquiries; who obtain from this kind of lore a +charming renewal of the past, a clearing up of local history, and an +almost face-to-face conference with persons whose names are landmarks of +national annals. The commission not only examines and arranges, but +forms copious characteristic "contents" of the volumes, and an index for +easy reference; it also keeps a journal of each day's proceedings. The +"contents" tell the nature and topics of each document, and will thus +facilitate research, and prevent much injurious turning over of the +manuscripts. The work, too long delayed, has been happily commenced. Its +neglect was felt to be a fault and a reproach, and serious loss was +known to impend; but still it was put off, and spoken lightly of, and +sneered at, and a very mistaken economy pretended, until last +legislative session, when it was adopted by accident apparently, and is +now in successful operation. The next questions are, how will the +arranged documents be preserved? who will have them in charge? will they +be allowed to be scattered about in the hands of privileged persons, to +be lost wholesale? or will they, as they should, be sacredly conserved, +a store to which all shall have a common but well-guarded light of +access and research.—<i>Halifax Sun</i>, <i>Dec. 9, 1857</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Poem by the Hon. Joseph Howe.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> At the present moment, the poor in the Township of Clare +are maintained by the inhabitants at large; and being members of one +great family, spend the remainder of their days in visits from house to +house. An illegitimate child is almost unknown in the settlements.</p></div> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Transcribers' Notes</h2> + +<p>The following amendments have been made to the text:</p> + +<p>Page 7. Final hyphen (chapter 3) replaced by em dash</p> + +<p>Page 8. Chapters 3 and 4: 'Louisburg' replaced with Louisburgh</p> + +<p>Page 18. Closing quotation marks added after ...a halo of fog.</p> + +<p>Page 41. Hyphen removed from 'sun-shine' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 46. Hyphen removed from 'bag-pipe' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 48. Hyphen removed from 'main-land' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 61. Hyphen removed from 'road-side' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 62. Hyphen added to 'sawbuck' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 63. Ending quotation marks added to end of paragraph: ...like a beast neither."</p> + +<p>Page 68. Full stop replaced by comma between ...such a look and "you must know...</p> + +<p>Page 69. Hyphen removed from 'over-land' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 71. Hyphen removed from 'light-house' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 71. Hyphen removed from 'over-head' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 80. Hyphen added to 'overcoats' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 81. Hyphen removed from 'mid-night' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 88. Hyphen removed from 'over-head' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 89. Hyphen removed from 'night-fall' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 89. Duplicate 'of' removed from ...the lady of of the "Balaklava" put on...</p> + +<p>Page 91. Hyphen removed from 'sea-board' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 92. Hyphen removed from 'sweet-meats' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 93. Opening quotation marks added to paragraph Picton, I will be frank...</p> + +<p>Page 110. Closing quotation marks removed from ..."On board the 'Vigilant,'</p> + +<p>Page 114. Closing quotation marks added to paragraph ...milk and potatoes down there.</p> + +<p>Page 126. Closing quotation marks added to paragraph ...the inevitable hour'----</p> + +<p>Page 126. Opening quotation marks added to paragraph 'The paths of glory lead...</p> + +<p>Page 139. Hyphen replaced by space in 'Nova-Scotia' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 145. Hyphen removed in 'moon-light' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 146. Hyphen removed in 'patch-work' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 152. 'Kavanah' replaced by 'Kavanagh' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 153. Hyphen removed in 'oat-meal' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 170. Hyphen removed in 'chamber-maid' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 189. Hyphen added to 'doorway' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 192. Hyphen added to 'fireplace' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 193. Hyphen added to 'keynote' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 200. Spelling of 'melliflous' corrected to 'mellifluous'</p> + +<p>Page 201. Spelling of 'hackmatack' standardised to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 203. Hyphen removed from 'sunlight' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 209. Comma removed from At, last we approach...</p> + +<p>Page 216. Opening quotation marks added after em dash in ...said he--'The Scarlet Letter.'...</p> + +<p>Page 224. Hyphen added to 'Grand Pré' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 225. Hyphen added to 'overcoats' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 234. Uncock capitalised in "uncock those pistols</p> + +<p>Page 237. Closing quotation marks added after ..."Canada?</p> + +<p>Page 258. Hyphen added to 'gaslights' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 276. Hyphen removed in 'hand-writing' to ensure consistency</p> + +<p>Page 308. Hyphen added to 'Grand Pré' to ensure consistency with other uses</p> + +<p>Page 321. Hyphen added to 'headquarters' to ensure consistency</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Acadia, by Frederic S. 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