HALIFAX AND THE EVANGELINE COUNTRY.
The walking is over; in order to spend a day in the Evangeline country the railroad must do the speeding hereafter and I must omit St. Margarets Bay and all the interesting country to Halifax. I should prefer to remain a night at Peggys Cove in the hope that I too might see the ghost of the Teazer, and there is Sambro, often mentioned in the history of early times, and Ketch Harbor sounds attractive, as does many another spot that holds out invitation to the wanderer.
It can be taken as an axiom that anything different from that which one is used to is singular; hence, when I pass through a country that is everywhere riddled with glacial boulders of all sizes and, in a distance of nearly two hundred miles, see only one stone fence, and that but a short piece, it seems odd to me, used to such things, that at least the smaller stones are not so disposed of. Another singular matter is the lack of stone farm houses: not one did I see in all my journeyings, when frequently all the stone required could be gathered within a hundred yards of its site. Had the Dutch settled in these parts it would have been quite different.
Halifax is a nice little city but, from my point of view, not worth an entire day of an all too short vacation. Another time I should be inclined to cut out both Yarmouth and Halifax and lay the time out dreaming the length of some country road or drifting along the edge of one of the beautiful bays.
The histories tell us that Halifax was settled in 1746 at the solicitation of the New England colonies, in order to crowd out the French, who were inclined to use the harbor as a naval base from which to harry said colonies. The extensive fortifications on Citadel Hill are the pride of Nova Scotia, but there is no attempt to make the hill attractive outwardly. It is merely a rough pasture lot hillside, crossed by wandering footpaths with a few uninteresting cannon and fortifications in sight at the summit.
Dalhousie College is a monument to the War of 1812. It seems that at that time certain patriotic Nova Scotians moved over the borders into the eastern section of Maine, and the inhabitants thereof, in order to continue their life of ease and luxury, cheerfully took the oath of allegiance to the British crown. The customs duties collected at the port of Castine were kept when the land was surrendered at the close of the war, and this money was known as the “Castine Fund.” After much debate as to what should be done with it, the entire amount was used for the endowment of Dalhousie College.
St. George’s Church is interesting from the fact, if it is a fact, that the building was erected in circular form in order that there might be no corners in which the Devil could hatch mischief for such idle hands as might come within the holy precincts, it would thus appear that those who wish to avoid the machinations of the evil one should avoid dark corners.
I took up my abode in the King Edward Hotel because it was near the depot. This was satisfactory in most respects. The head waiter did not fill his job very full, but much can be forgiven any hotel that places before its patrons that dear delight which the King Edward calls “pie,” a rich stew of some fruit on which is placed a square of rather thick, but very light and fluffy pastry. It is more after the manner of some of the old Astor House “deep dish” confections than any other that I know of, but, in the language of the late Mr. Noah Webster, has even those skinned a mile, all due to the remarkably light, flaky nature of the pastry and exceeding richness of the cooked fruit.
In the Chronicle office, Halifax, I met with another case of Nova Scotian courtesy. Having been informed that the paper had been publishing a series of articles on the South Shore recently, I called to ascertain whether they could be readily found, and saw an editor who kindly put one of his young ladies at the task, and she, after some searching, brought copies of the proper dates to me, and it was all done with a ready willingness and a smile that plainly meant she was glad to be of service. Why the boys up here allow such girls to remain single after they are sixteen can only be explained by the possible fact that all the girls are much the same: such little experience as I have had leads me to think this the probable explanation.
A morning train from Halifax put me in the “Evangeline” country by ten o’clock. I had hoped for a day in Truro in order to thank in person T. S. Patillo, who was kind enough to answer my written questions with good advice as to the route best suited to my wishes, advice which I followed with great satisfaction to myself. That I did not see him is, however, wholly his own fault, in that he suggested such an attractive course that I could not forsake the country of his selecting one moment earlier than must be.
Wolfville is the usual headquarters of those who wish to see Grand-Pré, and there I found John Frederick Herbin, the only descendant of the Acadians living in the locality. He has made a study of the expulsion and the causes which led to it, and claims that the poem “Evangeline” is a remarkably correct page of history.
The following facts are taken from his book on the subject:—
Acadia was first settled in 1605, though it had been known to French fishermen and traders since 1504.
Acadia, or Cadie or Kaddy, is a Micmac Indian terminal meaning the place of; that is, a region, field, land, etc.
In 1636 dikes began to be used on the salt marshes. About 1675 the French first settled in the Grand-Pré neighborhood. The first inhabitants came from the west of France—a country of marshes.
In 1704 Col. Benjamin Church left Boston to ravage the coast. At Minas (this is part of the Minas country) he cut the dikes, destroying the crops. He destroyed three villages and burned many houses.
In 1710 the English came into final possession of this country, but the French never lost the hope of some day regaining it. However, the Acadians, who by treaty right could leave the country if they wished, prepared in 1713-14 to do so, but this would have stripped the country of inhabitants and cattle and have left the English garrisons in a sad predicament for their daily bread, and consequently they by one pretext and another, managed to prevent it. Up to 1730 every effort was made to compel the French to take the oath of allegiance to the English Government, but they “were remarkably faithful to the government” (French).
In 1720 they again asked permission to leave, but were prevented from doing so.
In 1730 they took the oath of allegiance, being exempted from taking up arms against French or Indians. From this date they were known as French Neutrals.
As an indication of their feeling in 1744, when other French attempted unsuccessfully to force them into a position antagonistic to the English, they responded in part: “We live under a mild and tranquil government, and we have every reason to be faithful to it.”
In 1749 the Acadians were called on to take the oath without restriction or forfeit all their rights and possessions.
In 1750 they were pleading for permission to leave the country.
“They bore insult and indignity for forty years in a vain hope that a time would come when they would be finally secure on the lands their fathers had taken from the sea and made beautiful and rich beyond any other in America.”
The expulsion was the work of Governor Charles Lawrence, who is characterized as the most infamous of all the governors of Nova Scotia. “It was done without the sanction of the English Government,” whose “orders forbidding this action were received too late to prevent it.”
All their arms had been seized; their priests and archives carried off.
Lawrence concealed his purpose from the English Government until too late for its intervention; he even deceived his own Lords of Trade at Halifax.
The male inhabitants were summoned to meet at the church at Grand-Pré, “to hear the king’s orders.” Four hundred and eighteen men gathered in the church. No suspicion of danger had entered their minds up to the moment when they were notified “That your Lands & 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 your Selves to be removed from this his Province.” They were then declared prisoners.
The expulsion was conceived in sin and carried out in iniquity, its sole purpose being plunder, as the country and wealth of the Acadians would then fall to the English. Lawrence himself is accused of profiting greatly.
In other words, it was a plain case of highway robbery, the only excuse being trumped up charges against the inhabitants to the effect that they were plotting against the English. These appear to have had no foundation in fact, as has been amply proved by recent discoveries in the archives of England and France. Under such circumstances it was one of the most brutal cases of rapine, even for those rough times, that can be found in history.
The little basin, known as Wolfville Harbor, offered my best opportunity for noting the tremendous rise and fall of the tide, though the basin itself is not deep enough to show the extremes. Just outside, the greatest difference between high and low water, the extremes only occurring in spring and fall, is 55 feet 6 inches. But every full or new moon there is a high tide that comes within a very few feet of these figures. While interesting to see once, the vast expanse of yellow mud and the thick muddy water which surges back and forth destroy the beauty of the waterside; its novelty is the only attraction.
For my ride to Grand-Pré I asked for a talkative driver who knew the country and its story, and was given one who filled my soul with great content.
Before arriving at the points of interest he told of two ghosts seen by his father when a young married man—he himself, of course, does not believe in ghosts, though it is hard to explain their appearance to others. One brilliant, moonlight night, when the ground was covered with snow, father, while on his way to convoy his wife home from a neighbor’s in Wolfville, saw two men come out of the woods and pass through the fence to the road, neither climbing over it nor letting down the bars, but as a puff of smoke might pass. These started down the road a short distance ahead of him, but made no noise on the hard, frozen snow, while his shoes made the orthodox crunching sound as shoes should on flesh and blood feet. He even stopped a moment in order to assure himself of their quiet progress. Whether he moved at a lively pace or slow, the figures kept the same distance ahead of him, and even when he broke into a run he was unable to overtake them. At last they turned in toward a house, went up to the front door and disappeared. Not having any fear of ghosts, father followed, but found the door locked. He then passed around to the back, to find the door there locked as well, made some effort to arouse the people, but without success, and finally went on his way. At this time a man lay sick in the house who eventually died, and the ghost-seer always believed that these had something to do with that event, though unable to surmise how one man could have two ghosts, as this was long before the days of Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. It seems highly probable that the sick man had a double personality, and that he was entitled to these two spirits, who were identical in appearance and bearing. This is the first time, so far as my knowledge goes, that such a circumstance has occurred, but the more one thinks on the subject the more reasonable does it seem.
At first we drove out on high land overlooking the Gaspereau Valley, a sight well calculated to please the lover of the beautiful. This valley is a noted apple growing region, shipping about $60,000 worth of the fruit during a normal year. Apples and potatoes are the chief product of this part of the country, and my driver stated that the apple growers are prosperous and that few of the orchards are mortgaged. All fruit has been shipped to England heretofore, but the present Democratic free trade antics of the United States will probably result in much of it being sent to the nearer market to the detriment of its apple growers; let us hope that they were among those who helped mount the schoolmaster on the donkey’s back at the late election, and that they will but receive their deserts. More talk on this subject might be regarded by the powers that be as apple-sauce, and in the interests of harmony we will desist from further comment.
Near the mouth of the Gaspereau River is the historic landing place where the deportation of the helpless Acadians was consummated.
After following down the river for a space we turned to the left and mounted another hill, from the summit of which one may look down on the village of Grand-Pré (great prairie). Before beginning the descent we passed the Scotch Covenanter Church, erected in 1804, which still retains its box pews and high pulpit.
At the foot of the hill we came out on the meadows which were salved from the sea the better part of three hundred years ago. Here stood the chapel in which the Acadian men were held prisoners until they could be placed on board the transports; the locality over which Longfellow has woven such a spell of romance.
The site of the chapel, priest’s house and burial ground was originally an island in the salt marsh; now it is merely a gentle elevation on the edge of the meadow.
The Evangeline well is presumably the well attached to the priest’s house. After the deportation it was filled up and plowed over for many years. Twenty-five years ago it was opened and an interesting lot of Acadian implements were found in the bottom.
The burial ground is marked by a large cross built of stone used in the foundation of the church and the priest’s house and in other Acadian cellars. Beneath it are three graves and about it rest the remains of those who died in Grand-Pré during its occupation by the people, about eighty years.
Just north of the church site stands a row of willows set out by the people of Evangeline’s day. These have stood probably two hundred years, and shielded the Acadian Chapel and the priest’s house from the north winds of winter until 1755 when, after the removal of the Acadians, the buildings were burned.
On returning to Wolfville I again interviewed Mr. Herbin, and among other items gathered the following account of a legend which has to do with one of the nearby villages:
Immediately after the expulsion a considerable number of those who had escaped the clutches of the British, gathered at what is now known as East Minas, on high ground from which a large territory could be overlooked, in the belief that French ships would come for them. It is claimed that they had a priest with them, though Mr. Herbin regards this as doubtful, as the priests had been removed from the country during the summer in anticipation of the removal of the inhabitants later.
These are said to have erected a small chapel with walls about six feet high and steep pitched roof. Here they worshipped during the winter, but in time were discovered by the English and forced to again flee. So sudden was their departure that they were unable to carry with them the silver service used in the chapel, which had been brought from some other point, and this was hastily placed for safe keeping in a spring of water conveniently near.
Many years passed, the chapel had crumbled and the spring dried up, when several men appeared in the locality and, after making much inquiry, located a great tree, the stump of which is still to be seen, that was standing in the days of the French. Taking a line by this and another mark of which they appeared to have some record, they passed into the forest, but were unable to find the site of the spring, all signs of which having long since disappeared.
Later three men, who had learned the object of the unsuccessful treasure-hunters, instituted a search on their own account. One of them, named Bishop, stumbled on a slight depression which he believed to be the dry bed of the spring, and began to dig, but immediately the heavens darkened and strange noises issued from the surrounding woods, while half-seen shapes threatened to pounce upon him from the nearby trees.
About this time he concluded not to be selfish over his discovery, but to call in his friends that all might share alike, and commenced a search for them with zealous haste. But when they endeavored to return to the spot he was not able to locate it; the earth had been replaced and leaves and sticks scattered over it as formerly, and even the trees had been shifted about until the search was hopeless.